


Hubris

by xxStarryEyedDreamerxx



Series: Id, Ego, & Hubris [3]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, The Iliad - Homer, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Achilles is a good husband, Agamemnon is a dick, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle Couple, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Carrier verse, Cheating, Child Abandonment, Childbirth, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Gen, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Is it really tho.., Jealousy, M/M, Makeup Sex, Male Lactation, Marriage Proposal, Mpreg, Multi, Older Man/Younger Man, Other, POV Achilles (Song of Achilles), POV Patroclus, Patroclus is a MILF, Period Sex, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Thetis is freaking insane like IDK bro, Trojan War, War, Wedding, child rearing, odd couple, or he tries to be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17840006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxStarryEyedDreamerxx/pseuds/xxStarryEyedDreamerxx
Summary: How had everything gone so wrong.How had everything come to this.





	1. Amphidromia

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for how late this is, I might have to start back bi-weekly updates. To kinda get a schedule in place. And every so often post one update for Id and Hubris.
> 
> Historical fun fact: The Greeks were very suspicious of naming a male child before at least five to seven days had passed. The chapter's title literally means naming day. A sacrifice was made to the Gods, the child would then be inspected by all those present in the family or community. Deeming the child healthy the celebration would continue.
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy guys :)

When he and Machon had deemed his lover strong enough, a celebration was held in honor of their child’s safe delivery and health. His men offered his husband and child well wishes and blessings. Patroclus had forced him to invite a few of the other kings and princes, he hated to have such a joyous event marred by those men.

  
“It will be a snub, and it would not serve our reputation well after the king’s generous hospitality,” he had told him with Alexander resting on his chest. He could never deny his request especially with their son at his breast.

  
Agamemnon and his brother, Menelaus had offered their congratulations. Agamemnon had again gifted his husband and son another chest filled to the brim with gold. Surprisingly, Menelaus kept his eyes off his husband. He gifted them a chest filled with silk and cotton.

  
“May this baby have a good life,” Odysseus uttered setting down his own chest, it was smaller, this one his love did not open. Patroclus inclined his head towards him, how graceful he was.  
“I pray for your health,” Odysseus continued before he rose to join the others at the table. Patroclus gave him a small smile and Alexander wiggled in his arms.  
His love was radiantly dressed in white with both his wrists and forehead gleaming in gold. Their son was cradled securely in his arms, a scarlet blanket trimmed in gold surrounding him. His tiny hand reached up from the blanket, his husband played with the tiny fingers. The look of pure adoration had his heart overflowing, Gods he loved them.

  
It was nearly time, he nodded to Automedon who knelt at Patroclus’ side gently taking the baby into his arms. Once the baby was cradled securely in his arms, Patroclus joined at his side. Together, they held the golden bowl steady as the animal cried out. Thick crimson fell into it, the priest offered prayers and chants. The rest of the animal was butchered for the Gods. He and his love both washed their hands and Patroclus reclaimed their child in his arms.

  
With the Gods appeased, the ceremony could continue. Achilles held his arms out for the babe and his love passed him to him. He circled the hearth with his husband at his back, Automedon and Phoinix. A small mimicry of his family, he wished his father could have seen his grandchild. Once this had been done several times, he passed his son to his lover who inspected their son. Deeming him well passed him to Automedon who did the same, and finally Phoinix.  
The older man placed his son back into his waiting arms.

  
Achilles turned to address their guests, “ I present and dedicate my son, Alexander before the Gods and you all.” The crowd began to cheer his men were the loudest, and he glanced down at his son who didn't cry in the slightest. Alex merely blinked up at him, such a good babe he was. Perhaps he was so quiet because his mother had fed him well before.  
“I invite you all to drink and be merry on such a joyous occasion,” his men responded

  
“Prince Alexander, the son of Aristo Archaion. May the Gods bless him well.” He held their son up and let their warriors catch a glimpse of him. They were fascinated with his golden hair and his rosy cheeks. It seemed Aphrodite’s blessing had taken effect. Patroclus sent him a small smile from their table, but it seemed forced. What was the matter why he displeased? Alex’s face crumpled up, oh Hera now he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to test his babe’s patience and settled him back into his lover’s arms.

 

  
Patroclus sent him another smile, but this time it was free of strain. Ah, so he was anxious about their child being away from him.

  
“Cousin,” he turned towards Ajax over at the other tables. He glanced back at his lover who waved him off.

  
“Pat-tro-clus,” Briseis called from behind his love before even she was spellbound by his son.

  
“So pretty,” she told him settling next to him for a better look and Patroclus responded to **her** in her language. How did lover learn the Trojans’ harsh language so quickly?  
“Cousin,” Ajax called for him again and he glanced at his lover and **her** playing with and cooing at Alex. That horrible feeling was back again, but he pushed it down. There was no reason to be jealous.  
“We’ll be fine, go and enjoy with our men,” Patroclus said.

  
“I really don’t want to, I want to stay here with you two,” he pouted and Patroclus laughed before pulling him down to place a kiss at his cheek. A few men heckled them.  
“Go on, I have him,” Patroclus sent him another pretty smile before leaning over to coo at Alex.

  
He cast another longing glance over to his husband and child. He hated how the older man had called him away from his husband and baby.

  
“Oh come now cousin don’t make such a sour face, this is a joyous occasion. Your lover bore you a handsome and healthy son,” Ajax slugged an arm around him, “ You should give him rest before he gives you another.” The audacity of him. He knew very well it would be awhile, before they would sleep together again.

  
“He just gave birth to my son but ten days ago, don’t speak of such filth again,” he removed his arm from his shoulder. Ajax snorted.

  
“Oh, so you’re patiently waiting until he is recovered enough. Didn’t you hear of the latest bet, dearest cousin?” passing him a cup. The others at table were too concerned with drinking, playing dice or telling of their heroics to pay attention to them.

  
“What bet?” he was curious now. He prayed it was not apart of the hateful rumors about his husband.

  
“The bet,” Ajax told him flippantly refilling his cup, “ that you will have him fat with child again by the end of the year.” It took everything he had to kept his jaw from dropping.  
By all the Gods, did everyone truly think him so lustful. Patroclus was barely two weeks out of the birthing bed, he would never.

  
“I nearly lost them both, I would never put him through that again. I’m satisfied with the one he bore me,” he snarled.

  
“Little cousin you say such things, but you fucked him throughout his pregnancy. It is well documented how you had him wailing, which is why rumors sprung up,” he flushed that was true.  
Ajax smirked from behind his cup, “I told you to have your fun before you son came, but I didn’t mean that much fun.” Bastard, he had just reminded him of his earlier words about his husband. Why stop at his teeth when he could have his filthy tongue too.

  
“Control your tongue or I will cut it out for you,” he hissed getting up close with his person. To any outsider, it appeared a harmless discussion.

  
Ajax merely laughed, “I’m simply speaking the truth, dearest cousin.” That was enough of that, his fist was clenched at the ready. When he heard it, Patroclus’ lovely laughter. Briseis and a few of the other girls had gathered round him for a glimpse at the baby. Instantly his fist loosened and he dropped Ajax’s clutched tunic from his hand.

  
Ajax observed his cousin, so his husband had such an effect on him. He thought it funny how his demigod cousin could be so bold and cruel with others, yet behave so human and tender when it came to his Patroclus. It was no wonder he did not wish to put another child on him. Patroclus was the very last string of his human nature, Gods help them all if he lost that.

  
“Go and be with him if you miss him so, little Achilles,” he patted his cousin’s shoulder before going off to join Teucer and Tecmessa further down the table. She was going to bear his son in as little as six months, Prince Alexander and his son would hopefully grow to be close playmates.

  
He wished them all the best.

* * *

 

Patroclus was overwhelmed with the number of people, who wished to see him and his baby. Brieses and more girls huddled close to him to see Alexander, curiously his son hadn’t cried once throughout the ceremony and the crowding. It would be only a matter of time before he became cranky.

  
“Greetings, Prince Patroclus,” oh Gods above not him again. Patroclus schooled his face into a more neutral expression, before facing King Menelaus.

  
“Your highness,” he returned hoping that would be the end of him. Instead the King of Sparta made himself comfortable next to him , he sent Bries a subtle glance to have girls dismissed.  
The House of Atreus was well known for their sexual appetites. Even if he had taken Diomedes for a lover, he didn’t trust him.

  
When their didn’t move, he whispered in their language, “He is dangerous, please go and enjoy the celebration. I’ll be fine, he is not after me because of my husband.” A few gave him a wary looks, but followed Briseis as she directed them back to the safety of their warriors. They all knew not to touch the girls, due Achilles’ name.

  
“You speak their language, your highness,” Menelaus asked, when the girls had settled away from them at the other tables.

  
“I picked it up, in my confinement. My husband allowed me to do little and I was quite bored,” he responded bored, the way he hinted at his lover’s role was no accident. Where was Achilles? He scanned Ajax’s table, but didn’t see him. Patroclus saw Ajax was sitting with his brother, and who he assumed was his concubine. She was very pretty.

  
“Since you speak their language would you like to lead the next attempt for peace with the Trojans? ” the king ventured tentatively. That was quite unexpected, but he had a feeling the king was not just here to speak of such things. Alexander wiggled in his arms, but he didn’t fuss or cry, yet.

  
“King Menelaus, if you have something you wish to ask, please speak freely,” he was tried and his son was about to start crying because he was hungry, wet, sleepy or all three.

  
“Was pregnancy taxing on you?” was the first thing the king blurted out. He blinked.

  
Patroclus had to think for a moment, it had been very taxing on him. Morning sickness, how his feet, back, and chest hurt at times, how little he had slept, his sometimes shallow breathing, his son’s powerful kicks left him gasping. How hard and terrifying labour had been, but it had been worth it to have his sweet baby in his arms.

  
Fighting to keep a blush from his face, it had also been very pleasurable at times. He and Achilles barely kept their hands off each other, Gods he couldn’t get enough of him. His lust had gotten so destructive, it had once left Achilles with a nosebleed afterwards. And all the various scratches and bitemarks he often left on him. His lover had laughed and was light hearted about it, but he felt awful thinking about it.

  
“Your highness?” the king called for him again.

  
“Ah excuse me, I’m a bit tired,” he smiled, down at Alexander whose little features scrunched up. He had to hurry, before he started his wailing.

  
“To answer your question, your highness. It was quite taxing, but I would not trade my son for anything in the world,” he told him rising, “Please excuse me your highness, I must retire my son is about to make his displeasure known.” The king nodded, and he bowed as much the babe in his arms would allow.

  
Back in their tent he undid his bandages and held him at his chest, Alex only blinked up at him.

  
“Aren’t you hungry?” he questioned and his baby blinked again, before he yawned closing his eyes. Patroclus wanted to laugh, his son was so mischievous already. He nearly threw a fit to give him a chance to escape Menelaus. Smoothing the wisps of blond hair from his face and kissed his tiny forehead.

  
“Goodnight, my little love,” he whispered settling him into his cradle, and he didn’t stir. His baby would probably wake him in the middle of the night for a meal, but he didn’t mind.  
He undressed for bed and wondered where Achilles was, but was too sleepy to question it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you have a relative like Ajax. Because honestly he is doing the most, and he know it too ;)


	2. Drowing

Achilles was going back to his husband and child, when he felt it. His mother was calling for him. His lips curled, now she wished to speak with him. On the night of his son’s naming. He glanced over to his family. Patroclus and his son were well protected here with his guards and handmaidens. He was surrounded by witnesses, no harm would come to them. Achilles would go to her, this would be the final time he would see her. He had expected to met her near the sea, but she appeared before him in the forest.

  
“ **Hello, my son** ,” she greeted. Achilles did not to return her greeting.

  
He continued to walk past her, where was he going he didn’t know. Anywhere away from her.

  
“ **Achilles** ,” she called to him again. He would not look at her, all the harm and evil she had done.

  
“What could you possible have to say to me, mother. Haven’t you done enough? I know what you did.” Achilles was tired, just tired of all of this. Tired of her and her constant scheming. Just tired.

  
“Mother, do you love me at all?” he asked her. Turning towards her, twin tracks of tears fell. She had not once seen Achilles cry since he was a child.

  
Thetis was startled, how could he even think such a thing. She loved him more than anything. Achilles was the only good thing, she had left in her long immortal life. Her golden son, her perfect child. Soon nothing would stop him from being immortal with her.

  
“ **You are my entire world, my most beloved child. I would do anything for you** ,” she reached for his face. His tears dripped down his face, she thumbed them away. Her baby, her sweetest son.

  
“If you love me so, why have you treated me so cruelly,” his tears came even faster now, “Why mother?” she held him at her bosom. Oh my son. He could not even remember a time, he had ever been held by his mother. She even smoothed his curls, but her embrace was as cold as her heart.

  
“ **I love you, Achilles. I never meant for you to see my actions as cruel, everything I have done has been for your sake** ,” he yanked himself away from her.

  
“No, mother that is not true. You don’t love or care for me because if you did you would have never done those things. I begged you not to do them, but you did them anyway,” he wiped at his face. How pathetic, he wasn’t a child anymore. He was far too old for this, no longer did he need her. Shouldn't long for her comfort, comfort she had never sought to give him before.

  
“ You murdered my child, a child that plagues my thoughts still. How you ripped his life away, and how he nearly took my beloved with him. You kidnapped me in the middle of the night to dress me as a girl. How each day, I lived in agony away from him. How I trusted you and you deceived me. You married me to that spoiled princess knowing I belonged to another,” he snapped, listing out all her sins and transgressions.

  
“I pleaded with you not to force me to lie with her, yet you did anyway. I hated it so much mother, why would you allow her to do that to me. I lied to Patroclus telling him it was only twice, but it was far more than that. She would come to me at night and straddle me, I hated it. I hated it.” His tears started a fresh, his distress was hers as well.

  
**“Achilles, my son I’m sorry, I didn’t know she did such a horrible thing to you. I would have never allowed her to such a thing** ,” Perhaps, she should have let Patroclus bear her son’s first child. He never would have dared to behave as Deidamia had, dying right after bringing her son’s heir into the world. Deidamia, she was struck with until Pyrrhus was weaned. Her patience grew ever shorter with her, coupled with what she knew now. The little bitch would be lucky if survived the year.

  
“ **It doesn’t matter now, what’s done is done** ,” he shook his head. Achilles moved further and further from her reach. Had she truly driven him away from her with her actions?

  
“Mother, if you held love for me as you claim you would have respected my wishes to leave Patroclus and my child be. Instead you made plans behind my back to get him from my side. You prevented his healers from coming to his aid and he nearly bled out after having my child,” he ran his fingers through his hair.

Something he always did when he was younger, if something was distressed him. She was distressing him. Thetis gently tugged his fingers free, if he kept going he was going to pull the strands from his head.

  
“Don’t touch me,” he spat, jerking away from her, “ **I never wish to see you again after this. I will not call for you. Nor will I come if you call.** ” He seemed as if he could not stomach the very sight her, being in her presence made his skin crawl. That spoke the extent of his hatred for her. It took all of her strength not to fall to her very knees.

  
“ **For him, you would banish me your own mother** ,” her own eyes dampened. She still didn’t understand, perhaps she never would. Their problems had started long before Patroclus.

  
**“Yes, Thetis** ,” she recoiled, he did not even call her mother, “ **From this day forth, you are no longer a mother, I disown you. A mother is supposed to protect her child, and put the interests and comforts of her child over her own. Something that is foreign to you. You have seen me only as a way to regain your status. You were once my beloved mother, who I loved the most. I didn’t care how the Gods of spoke and slandered your name, I loved you. Wasn’t that enough? How could you betray me as you did**?” Each word her son spoke against her was the sharpest dagger to her heart. Her lips parted in response.

  
“ **Nevermind, it doesn’t matter now. Don’t come near me or them**.”

“Goodbye Thetis, I pray you live well,” her son told her, power leaving his voice. In a fit of desperation, she fell to her knees.

  
“ **Please don’t do this, my son. I’m sorry my son, for all the evil and harm I done and caused you to and your family** ,” her son’s eyes were no longer wet. His gaze was relentless and appeared to look right past her.

  
“ It is too late for you to say such things. I wish things could have been different. You would have loved him had you gotten the chance to know him. Often I dreamed you would come to love and accept him as much I did, I was naive to think such a thing. Patroclus reminds me of how you were with me when I was younger. How lovely and gentle he is. How wonderful he is with my son,” her son’s voice had started out so cold, but towards the end his voice had softened when he spoke of the mortal. She should have drowned him when she had the chance, but that would have drawn her son even further from her.

  
“ I hate how you hurt him. By hurting him, you hurt me. All I ever wanted was one thing, him. You could have me do anything and I would have. Had you left him alone and unharmed, but instead chose you to hurt him and my children. **I’ll never forgive you for that. I meant what I said I never wish to see you again** ,” she bowed her head. All he had said held truth.  
“ **I swear to never harm him or your child again, please my son don’t do this,** ” she looked up at him, but his face appeared to be cut from marble. Truly she glimpsed his cruelty, a fraction of her own reflected back at her. He didn’t answer her, instead he walked away from her.

She watched him leave, until he was a white blur in the distance.  
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat, she had gambled everything away for nothing. She was to be left with nothing, her son’s love gone. His heart stolen by his lover and the child he bore him. In preparing for his destiny, she missed the signs of his growing unhappiness. Had she let him have this one thing, he would not have been so unhappy. For the first time in a long time, she wept. The waves rolled with her tears.

* * *

 

When he came back from the clearing, he discovered Patroclus had retired with their babe. He was glad for it, the banquet had descended into madness. The music was loud and the laughter rambunctious, some of his men chased a few of Patroclus’ handmaidens around. He nearly stepped in, until he saw the glee on their faces. In due time, Alexander would have other children to play with. Agamemnon and Menelaus were still here. Agamemnon appeared deep in his cups and Diomedes was all but in Menelaus’ lap. They were still trying to keep their relationship a secret, he snorted everyone knew now. If they didn’t already.

  
He wanted to go and be with his own lover and child, but his emotions were unstable at the moment. Patroclus would pick on his grief immediately, and he did not wish to add to his burden. His husband appeared healthy, but he was still weak. Childbirth as he had told him was no easy task, and Achilles swore never to put another child on him. The last two had nearly killed him. He grabbed a cup and sipped at it slowly, he refused to go to them stinking of wine. At least his mother would not harm them any longer. His heart squeezed at his mother’s pain, but she had brought it upon herself.

* * *

 

Thetis shakily got to her feet. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Her son had disowned her for what, his whore and bastard. She was his mother, she had birthed him into this world. What made them so special to him that he was willing to discard everything she had worked for. She had to know. Thetis eased into the tent, her footsteps glided soundlessly.

Her son’s slut slept on peacefully, he looked the same as he always did. Only now his belly was flat. She would never understand her son’s fascination with him, there was nothing special about him. He held no beauty to him except for his youth. Which would fade, youth always faded first.  
Thetis continued to the cradle. Alexander was a threat to Pyrrhus’ inheritance, he had to be dealt with. She gazed down at the sleeping babe, and paused. He was a near perfect copy of Achilles as an infant, from his little golden curls, rosy cheeks, and tiny nose. He was so beautiful, there was nothing of his lowly mother in him.

She lightly touched his cheek and the baby stirred and blinking up at her. Oh, he even had her son’s green eyes. So precious, he was. Alexander blinked at her one more before he closed his little eyes again. Patroclus slept on unaware, she picked up the baby. He still didn’t cry. What a quiet baby he was, he didn’t wail and scream as Pyrrhus did.

Bringing him closer to her chest, Thetis felt strong divinity in the babe. Impossible. More of her mistakes glared her in the face. He had more value than she had realized. Not only had Patroclus had given birth to a near mirror image of her son, his bloodline was descended from Zeus. All carriers to a degree could trace their lineage to Zeus, but this was a direct line. She had been wrong to let that stupid girl have her son’s child. Her bloodline had been weaker than she anticipated, and had diluted her grandchild’s divine blood. Pyrrhus still held some of her son’s divinity, but the rest would have to be supplemented with ambrosia. This child here was nearly a demigod himself. But how?  
It was a shame, he had to be born a bastard. There nothing to be done about it now, she had sealed her son’s marriage herself. To undo it now would prove her son right. She held him a moment longer, before settling the babe back into the cradle, covering him once again. Thetis had come to smother him in his cradle, but he would carry on her son’s legacy. A worthwhile legacy.

  
“ **I spare you today, little Alexander. Grow and show me your strength. Show me that you are worthy to be your father’s successor,”** she whispered to him and the baby blinked up at her **, “And I will make it so**.”

  
His face scrunched up and she had to leave before his mother woke and found her here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mommy Dearest got put in her place. Also Achilles, rookie move rookie move. Like your mother is batshit.


	3. Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey beautiful people, I got Chapter 3 up on time. Yay. Enjoy guys.

They settled into a quiet routine, with Alexander. Achilles kissed his forehead, pressing a tiny one to their son’s. It was easier now when his lover left, because he had something to occupy the time. Still he worried for him, but Alex quickly diverted his attentions. His son didn’t cry often, as he was a rather good baby. Instead he peered up at him when he checked on him or as much as a baby could from his crib. It unnerved him at times, his stillness and silence. When he had voiced this to Achilles, he only laughed.

“My nurses said the same thing about me, I only cried when I wanted a tit in my mouth. I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I grew out of it, he will too.”

 

Slowly his body recovered from childbirth, and his menstruation came back to his annoyance. And it came back with a vengeance, he had been sleeping peacefully next to Achilles when he realized the sheets felt wet. A very large stretch of scarlet, met his sight, he hasn't even realized it was time for it, Achilles was even sleeping in half of it. Hera above, this was embarrassing. Shaking him awake and having him stand off to the side while he cleaned up and changed the sheets.

Alex started to cry, startled by the noise and light. He went to go to him; but Achilles already had him at the crux of his neck, rocking and humming a wordless tune to him.

Patroclus watched them for a moment, their golden hair gleaming in the candlelight. Alex was dozing off again, content in his father’s warm arms. Despite his doubts of not being a good father, he was doing well. With everything back in order, they all settled back into bed. Achilles didn’t want to put Alex in his crib just yet.

“I just want to hold him a little longer,” his green eyes holding such a unspoken sadness. “ _He thinks of our son and his heir,”_ he thought. Patroclus leaned up to peck his cheek.

“I would never begrudge you to hold your son. I labored to birth him for you,” he told him settling next to his warmth. His cramps were starting and he rather be asleep when than awake when that happened. When he felt up to it, he would go and fetch some herbs from the medical tent, to mix his potion. Or send one of the men, another cramp hit. Ugh, he was definitely going to send someone else.

“I love you,” he heard blinking out of consciousness. He wondered if Achilles was talking to him or their son, or both of them. As he fell deeper into sleep, with a small smile on his face. Things were so perfect.

Achilles watched Patroclus drift off, Alex too slept deeply at his chest. His soft  breaths against his bare chest, his tiny warmth a relief. With every breath they took, it brought an easiness to his heart. He held Alexander a little longer before he too could feel the pull of sleep. Carefully, he rose to settle him in his crib. His tiny hand balled up, but he didn’t stir. Achilles kissed his tiny forehead, “Sleep well, my son. I’ll protect you always.”

* * *

 

Alexander was growing quickly, he could scarcely believe he was already six months old. Achilles had been right, Alex grew to make more noise as he grew. He cried when he wanted his attention, even if he wasn’t hungry.  Laughing and smiling or occasionally babbled in conversation with him.

“Come here little one, would you like to go and see Briseis and the other girls?,” he asked him, bundling him in his arms.

“Ba, bap, ba,” was his answer so he took that as a yes. Patroclus straightened his both his wild golden curls and clothing. Once that was done he kissed his forehead. 

“Okay, then let’s go.” Alex cooed at him some more and he smiled. Such a good babe he was. On their walk across the camp, Alex smiled and cooed at the men curiously. A few of the men nodded as they passed others, bowed. This made him uncomfortable, but he supposed this was for the little prince he carried in his arms.

One of his former guards, Theo waved at him. He waved back and Alex brightened when they reached the women’s tent. Briseis immediately scooped him up into her arms and kissing his chubby cheeks. He lingered for a moment before she shooed him off.

“They have need of you, don’t worry I have him. Taking care of him will be good practice for some of the mothers to be,” her Greek was coming along nicely. Other mothers? That peaked his interest.

“Mothers to be?,” he asked. Oh Gods, no. Had something happened that he and Achilles were unaware of. Briseis caught his worried expression and shook her head.

“Many of the women have taken lovers, it was not forced. In fact, I think many of the babes were conceived the night of this little one’s naming ceremony,” she finished, teasing at the end.

Patroclus breathed a sigh of relief, nothing untoward had happened to them. He kissed Alexander’s chubby cheek once again and waved to Briseis. She beamed at him before taking Alexander out of his view.

* * *

 

Patroclus was lithe again, one couldn't even tell he had even had a child. Briseis shuddered at the mere thought of it, to carry the child of such a butcher.  

  
She had to admit the baby was beautiful with his flaxen hair, chubby cheeks, pale skin, forest green eyes, and tiny red mouth. However, he reminded her too much of his sire, the man whom had killed all she loved. Her father, her brothers, her husband. Destroyed her village and allowed her and others to be in harm's’ way.

Alexander was but an innocent babe, who had no control of his father’s actions, a babe whom Patroclus loved dearly. She tried to remind herself that when Patroclus played with and kissed the child.

 

The child that nearly killed him.

  
When his belly had first began to show to the point it was very noticeable, she had been confused before he explained. He was a carrier and was expecting Achilles’ child. Her first thought had been rape, then he explained as best he could how he loved him, loved the child in his belly. Briseis had worried for him and how he would be treated when the others discovered him being with child. But the Greeks had been accommodating to him, either out of joy or fear of his lover.

  
A few women in the camps pitied him even those who hated him, when he had gotten in final stages of pregnancy. Thinking Achilles an unfeeling monster for sleeping with still.

“He has no regard for the bearer of his child,” they whispered. How could Achilles resist his charms, he had become so lovely. His cheeks were fuller and ever rosy. Patroclus had looked so healthy, unlike when they had first met.

  
When he visited, they were all eager to hold and take the baby from him. Letting him be free for a few moments. Some of the women who had been mothers and grandmothers had thought it unnatural for a male to carry and birth a child. Even more unnatural for him to rear and fed the child himself. Patroclus had insisted taking the child back each time, to fed him.

> “ I have no problem with looking after my own child. I bore him, he is my responsibility. But I thank you kindly for your concern.”

Greeks were such a strange and prideful people. He obviously struggled splitting his time between looking after his duties and taking care of his son.

 

Achilles had surprised them with how gentle he been with both his son and husband.  The only ones who mattered to him.

The day Alexander had been born, he raced back from the battlefield to personally see to his child and husband. Then ran all the way to the main camp, for Machon, when Patroclus had began to bleed heavily.

Getting to him, just in time.

And all these months after Alex’s birth, he had not cleared Patroclus to return with him to the battlefield. Citing his health and that he was better suited in the camp with their son. She was secretly glad that he wouldn't be in danger.

The Myrmidons however were eager to see him returned to the battlefield, they said he was nearly their prince’s equal. Even as heavy with child as he was when he first went.

And the longer Achilles kept him away, the more rumors sprung up. Prince Alexander was already six months old, was Patroclus expecting another child?

Some of the whispers said Achilles purposely impregnated him on the way to Aulis to keep him from battle. Others argued that Achilles had done so before they even set sail. Neither was true, it had been unplanned coming on the heels of a painful miscarriage. Patroclus had only discovered it sometime before they set sail.

Some were saying that Achilles wanted to keep him with child at all times to keep him from the battlefield. From the way Patroclus had spoken this was his last one, he didn’t wish to go through it a third time. The first had ended in miscarriage, the second nearly in his death. Achilles had approved of his decision, in fact he endorsed it.

  
Achilles was possessive, she saw that from the moment he had met Patroclus’ gentle kiss. It was dominance he had shown her that night, he didn’t care that she was there. He was going to have him regardless. His nature saw no room for others.

He would destroy any who sought to take Patroclus from him. Including his own children if he saw fit.

While Achilles clearly adored Alex, but she shuddered to think of what would have become of the baby had Patroclus been taken by fever. The Gods wouldn’t hear her, for they hadn’t when Achilles had come and burned everything to the ground. Still she prayed that Patroclus remained in good health.

* * *

 

The medical tent was crowded as usual, Machon gave him a small smile. He finished with a small gash on a warrior’s temple before he came over to him.

“Your highness, I’m surprised to see you again so soon. Is there something I can assist you with?”

“No, in fact I’m here to be assistance to you.” Poliderus gave him a sharp nod as he finished strapping in his armor.

“Good, we can use all the help we can get,” he patted his shoulder, once before he disappearing through the opening of the tent.

Machon sighed after he left, but led him along. His duties were simple still, and he helped Machon stitch up wounds and things of such nature. No arrow or spear wounds had come in yet. He was glad for it, and at the same time was anxious. Because at any time gravely wounded soldiers could come in. Agamemnon had continued his ruthless campaign on the men despite others voicing their concerns. No more meetings had been held in fear of there being discord among the men. They need a respite, a chance to rest and regather their strategy. Patroclus himself wished for peace, but with his lover’s destiny. That was only a dream, Achilles would practically have to bathe in blood to gain his godliness.  

Sighing tiredly to himself as another soldier came in. Already, he prepared to be here for some time.

Damn Agamemnon and his selfish ways.

* * *

 

It was well past sunset, when he finished in the medical tent. Washing his hands free of the blood and changing his tunic before returning to retrieve his son. Alexander cried when he was separated from Briseis, but once he was settled in his arms, his tears stopped.

He cooed and immediately tried reaching for his hair, Patroclus gently moved his hand out of reach. Achilles indulged him so often to the point he reached for everyone’s hair if it fell in his line of sight.

“He is a rather good baby, Patroclus,” she told him, moving a curl from his face from Alex’s reach. Her hand lingered for a moment there, as if she was waiting for him to stop her.

He didn’t, but felt as if he should.

“Patroclus,” he glanced in the direction of the call.  Achilles and some of the men were returning back from the field. Briseis dropped her hand back quickly, Achilles came over to them.

Achilles placed a kiss on his lips, but refrained from kissing their son. Alex reached one of his arms out to reach for his father, and Achilles shrank back.

“Ba, ba,” he reached for him again, his eyes watering. Oh no, if Alex started crying it would be ages before he calmed him.

Achilles kissed him to prevent him crying, doing it briefly to prevent blood from coating his chubby cheek. Alex giggled in greeting and tried to reach for his father, but Patroclus held him firmly.

The fear in his lover’s eyes broke his heart,“ Achilles, it’s okay. I’ll wipe him off. He won’t get sick.”

Achilles glanced back to wave to Briseis, from the corner of his eyes, Patroclus saw she had returned it.

* * *

 

Patroclus sat Alex down for a moment in his cradle with a silver rattle from Agamemnon, quite pleased with himself, so he turned his attention to Achilles.

The water was already crimson and he had yet to rinse out his hair. Achilles was just staring at his hands in horror.

“Achilles,” he called to him gently. He didn’t respond to him, instead burying his face in his hands.

“Achilles,” he said this time more firmly.

“How do you allow me to hold you or kiss you?,” his voice muffled by his hands, “ how do you allow me to hold our son as blood soaked as I am?”

“What has upset you, my love?,” he asked sitting against the rim of the tub, glancing at Alex nibbling on his silver ring ever so often.

“ I merely ask” Achilles said meeting his eyes finally.

He chose his next words carefully, “Because I know none of this is of your own choosing, Achilles.”

“I have chosen this path, Patroclus you know this. Don’t  pretend otherwise.”

He blew out a breath, before rising to get a jug to rinse out Achilles’ hair. He hated to see his golden curls matted with blood. Hated to see him so weary and tired.

“Yes, but you didn’t choose it truly, the Fates did. I know you have no control over it, this is merely how it has to be.” setting it down next to table, for when he had finished.

“He will grow to be afraid of me,” Achilles cast his gaze to Alex playing happily in his cradle.

“He won’t fear you, he’ll want to be like you. He already shows how he adores you.” Patroclus cupped his cheeks, but he pulled away from him.  

Achilles was quiet as he scrubbed at his hair with soap, slowly the red fell away. He hated to see him like this, hated how his sins weighed upon him.

“I do not wish for him to be a warrior, I wish for him to stay as he is. Safe and sheltered from harm, to have him or you harmed. Would kill me,” he spoke finally.

“ _Oh, my love, but he will have to be. His own destiny is written_ ,” Patroclus thought.

Pouring the water over him, Achilles yelped.

“That’s cold,” he muttered before laughing a bit.

“I suppose it would be, sorry my love.” Achilles smiled briefly, that haunted look for the moment left him.

Patroclus turned his attention to his son, who had grown quiet. He supposed he was hungry now. Hiding a sigh, he poured more water over his lover, who jumped again before placing a towel next to the tub.

“Achilles, we’ll talk further when I put him to bed,” he pecked his lips before finally leaving him to see to their babe.

* * *

 

Achilles had dried off and joined him on the bed, Alex content in his arms.

“Are you alright?,” he asked him once more.

Achilles only sighed before leaning into his shoulder.

“I am now.”

Patroclus smoothed his damp hair away from his face.

Both his son and lover were against him, seeking peace and comfort.

“You don’t have to fear our rejection, we love you,” Achilles didn’t respond, burying his head further into the crux of his neck. His golden hair curtaining his face.

He said nothing when warm droplets fell on into his neck.

For this would not be the first time, Achilles had come back from battle troubled. Nor would it be the last. He only prayed that soon they would have peace.

* * *

 

Today, he decided to spend the day with Alexander solely. He hadn’t been spending as much time with him as he should. The women in the camp saw his baby more than he did.

Patroclus sometimes missed how close he and Alex had been, how his heartbeat had beat in sync with his own. How his baby slept when he did, oh his little love. Alex was growing up so quickly, and  soon he would have to wean him.

Alex gave him a gummy smile and he kissed his chubby little cheek. Smoothing back his baby’s wild ringlets, decided that today was a nice day to venture into the forest.

The fresh air would be wonderful for both him and his baby.

Ever so often Alex would make and noise and gently he would encourage him to speak more words. Along the way Patroclus told him his own name first, then Achilles’, Briseis and finally his own.

“You’re still much too young, to say my name. But don’t worry soon you shall know and say many other things,” he told him settling in the clearing, a few flowers grew here. Maybe he could make a little crown for his baby.

A cool breeze passed through the clearing and he felt relief. The sounds of the battlefield far behind as well as the pained cries of the injured or sick. Only him and his babe.

Alex rested his soft head against his chest, he hummed a gentle lullaby to him. It was nearly his naptime after all.

“Pa,” he sleepily uttered before sticky fingers reached up to touch his face. Patroclus let him too shocked to stop him.

“ Close my love, so close,” he held his tiny hand in his own, planting a small kiss to the digits.

His son, so small was to change Achilles’ destiny. His heart felt heavy, he was destined to lose both his lover and child.

Patroclus simply held his sweet babe to his chest, had this been how Thetis had felt the day Achilles was born. To know your child will be slaughtered in a bid to achieve glory, glory that was not fixed. For the Gods were fickle in their promises. The Fates even more so.

Alex poked his head up from his chest. Eyes watching him as if they knew his anguish, always so thoughtful his babe.

“I’m fine,” he assured him, he was so little. How could he know of his sorrow. Patroclus smiled softly at his baby.

“You must go to sleep my Alexander, you will be upset otherwise,” he muttered leaving a lingering kiss to his forehead cuddling him ever closer to his chest. Patroclus started his song once more, within a few moments Alex was out instantly.

With his baby asleep in his arms, he had more time to think about Achilles.

Yesterday, had left him more worried than usual. Achilles had been quiet at dinner and even quieter before they all settled down. He had slept away from him, their backs touching. Never had he been so far away. The war was finally taking its toll on him, and he had no way to shield him from it.

Alexander sniffled a bit in his sleep, he hoped he wasn’t getting a cold. Carefully he rose to make his way back to camp. There he could bundle him up in his warm blankets. Fall was ending, and soon it would be winter.

* * *

 

Agamemnon had finally called another meeting and just as he had before. Patroclus was firmly in Achilles’ lap. This time an entire row was left empty. He could have cared less of what they thought of him, now. If they wanted to whisper “whore” or “slut”, let them. For none of it was true. Had this been a year ago, he would have wilted like a flower in the mist of their accusations.

Never again, would he falter in the midst of it, the word no longer held any meaning. Nor would it ever again.

Diomedes had not even made one indecent comment towards him or Achilles, and they had given him plenty of material.

In fact he looked rather green in the face, with his lips firmly shut. He was curious, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. Like putting Agamemnon in his place.

It was nearly a year since they had first come to Troy, and still they had gained no ground. Troy had not opened her gates, and winter was approaching. Everyday Achilles came back to him missing more and more of himself, and each day he found it harder and harder to put him back together.

That sweet boy from Mt. Pelion was slowly being replaced by a battle hardened warrior. Something must be done.

Something that didn't involve Achilles to killing Hector. Something else.

Agamemnon had only told them to be patient and soon they would have more treasure than what they knew what to do with. Odysseus pushed for more raids and that was actually what Agamemnon and Nestor had wished to hear.

Patroclus snorted in disgust. Achilles was so bored that he was falling asleep only his fist preventing his head from drooping.  Every so often he would pinch him to prevent him from snoring. Achilles liked to say that he didn’t, but Patroclus knew better. He had shared a bed with him for as long as he could remember.

A war that was supposed to be a mere year was stretching beyond that, and they were trapped here. And from the coolness of the winds, this winter would be particularly frigid. He didn’t know if would be as cold as Mt. Pelion, but they still needed to be prepared.

This meeting was useless as they would continue raiding the nearby lands and keep some troops fighting the majority of the Trojans. Achilles and their Myrmidons were stationed near the very front once again and once again they would be defending Agamemnon’s cowardly self.

Patroclus had enough, he lightly shook Achilles awake, and tugged him out.

Odysseus shook his head at him, but didn’t stop them.

* * *

 

“I want to go to battle with you,” he stated quite plainly. Achilles dropped the bit of mush he was feeding Alex. His son fussed a bit, upset with his missing food. He kissed his head in apology.

“You want to what?,” he kept his voice even hoping he would let it drop.

Achilles had already told him that his place was here with their son, and he was needed at the medical tent tending the sick or dying. There was a nagging feeling at the very core of his being, Patroclus wasn’t meant to be anywhere near the battlefield.

“Achilles, I know for a fact, your hearing is quite well.” Patroclus took the fussing babe from him, practically rolling his eyes at him.

“Better than most,” he muttered, taking the bowl and spoon with him.

“Your place is here.”

Patroclus bounced Alex against his hip. All displeasure eased from his face. Alex’s soft giggles eased some of the tension between them. A smile graced his face, watching his husband and child.

“ He needs you, Patroclus. I have no need of you on the battlefield.” Achilles wanted him to understand that he didn’t want to see him hurt.

“Achilles, I know you wish to protect me, but I’m needed at your side.” “ _Because our commander is an idiot who would have you killed,”_ he thought.

“I have no need of you, stay here.” Achilles reached over to play with Alexander’s tiny fingers.

“You can’t control my actions no matter how much you wish you could. I bore your son, but I’m still allowed certain freedoms.” Achilles paused. This was true. Never again would he do that, but still he wished he would be more careful.

He hated when Patroclus became this stubborn, and wouldn’t listen to reason. Achilles knew that he had a tendency to be overprotective and was a bit controlling throughout his pregnancy. But this was madness, he had nearly bled to death only six months ago.

“You have barely recovered from birth, you need rest. When Machon deems you well enough, we’ll see.” A shadow crossed his face, before it was neutral again. He nodded.

“Then train with me. Make it so that I’m fit for the battlefield again,” Patroclus dared him to refuse.

“Defeat me in combat, and we’ll see about you returning to the field,” green held his gaze. His resolve never wavered. Gods, above.

“I accept,” Patroclus  told him.

Stubborn as a mule, this one. Achilles prayed Alexander wouldn’t take after his lover’s temperament. Patroclus was sweet, but his temper was something to behold at times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment when you catch it.


	4. "Training"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beautiful people, I'm posting a bit early due to the dreaded midterms. :)

The sand gotten in between his toes and under the nails. Gods, that was vexing. At least the weather was lovely.

Apollo’s budding rays cast a bloody orange shadow over the water. He slowed down a bit to admire the breaking dawn, it was the last lap anyway.

“One more lap,” Achilles called to him, before he was a blur once more. If he ran anymore his legs were going to fall off.  Achilles was pretending to be fair in his training, but in truth. He was a fucking tyrant.

  
Honestly, he should have just kept his mouth shut. From experience he knew Achilles when it came to training. Their men's groans about his training regimen spoke volumes about his ruthlessness. Hades in boyhood, he was relentless. Luckily for him even after having their son, he kept up with him well enough.

  
Achilles thought he was keeping him, from the field. He thought wrong.

  
**And he was going to prove it to him.**

* * *

 

The sunlight glinted off the blade, at his neck.

Patroclus practically purred, “Yield,” pressing it closer to his throat. He knew his lover would never cut him, it was for show. His victory over him.

  
“ I yield,” the blade came away from his neck. Patroclus instead of moving off him, stayed straddled on top of him. He laid his head against the grass in defeat.

Patroclus was truly nearly his equal in every way. Gods, he would be stunning on the battlefield, but he preferred that Patroclus remain with their son. And now he would have to keep his word. Damn him.

“I yielded, you can get off now,” he snarked. He had gotten what he desired.

Patroclus drove his sword in the ground a bit next to his head, before caging him securely in the warmth of his thighs. A moment passed between them, he was tempted madly. However, he was furious with him at the moment. Mind and body warred with each other. Traitorously, his body craved his warmth and intimacy.

  
“Have you really?” Patroclus teased, the sunlight lit up his features gorgeously.

  
Patroclus fluttered his pretty doe eyes close before, leaning down to kiss him. At first the kiss was slow and chaste, then got progressively hungrier. His own blade lay forgotten. Both wrestled for control. Patroclus cheated and was once again on top.

  
“You cheated,” he panted looking up.

  
“Have I?” Patroclus snickered.

  
“Yes, you did,” he told him reclaiming his lips.

  
Achilles ran his fingers lightly up his back, Patroclus made a noise of agreement in his mouth. Their feet tangled up, and they rocked against each other.  
He sat up cupping both his neck and back. They were both eager to have a taste of the other as much as possible. Breaking briefly, before Patroclus’ lush mouth was on his again. Soon the need for air, outwon passion. Their breaths mingled together and for a moment, he had nearly forgotten why he was so cross with him. Ah, that's right. His lover was being negligent once again. Again he wanted to be at his side again on a battlefield.

Patroclus broke away from him, “Take me,” cheeks flushed and curls messy from both their sparing and makeout. They could discuss this later.

  
“Here,” Achilles leaned his forehead against his. Trying to catch his breath.

  
“Yes, here,” he panted.

  
He smirked against him.

  
“Where anyone could see us. Are you sure?” he teased gesturing to the empty clearing they were in.

  
“Yes, I’m sure.” Patroclus nipped at his neck. He was sure he would have have marks later. So bloodthirsty.

  
“ I would hate to become the next Menelaus and Diomedes,” Patroclus snickered at this, his warm breath teasing his skin.

  
“It’s funny how some months ago, the king asked me so much about pregnancy and carriers, because he got him with child.”

  
Achilles’ eyes widened.

  
“Seriously,” he hadn’t heard this before. Patroclus laughed again against his neck.

  
“You didn’t notice the lack of his vulgarity at council, he has been abed with morning sickness,” he mimicked the action, “ I hear it’s worse than mine was.”

  
“Mmm, and how do you know such things,” he leaned back to pull his tunic up, and waited.

  
“The men talk,” Patroclus was kind enough to remove his own for him. His hands were finally free to greedily touch the wide expanse of his skin.

  
“They are really the worst gossips,” Patroclus laughed, then gasped as his thumb ran over his nipple. That was only the beginning, Patroclus was in trouble for his taunting.

Achilles kept his touches light and soft, they didn’t have to rush. He could have spent hours between his thighs, but his love was growing impatient with him.  
Gods, he loved this. The sliding of their skin, how his breath caught, when he found that spot. He lazily thrust upwards, Patroclus met them equally languish.  
Hands rested at his waist, a few marks stretched around his belly, proof that he carried their child. Gently he thumbed over them, they made him all the more beautiful.  
  
Neither of them wanted to rush, content to enjoy their time together. It was rare for them to catch a moment together and Automedon was kind enough to watch their little prince for them to train. Only they weren’t sparring any longer. It was impossible to be angry with him like this. 

Patroclus chanted his name as he settled back down on him. Gods above, he loved watching him go up and down it drove him insane.

* * *

 

 

In his haze he glanced down at his lover. Achilles’ deep green eyes met his equally dazed, his blonde hair spread out in the grass. His face was flushed, sweat beaded at his temple,and his plush lips were swollen.

“ _I love you_ ,” he thought He wasn’t very good with his words, so he let his actions speak. Patroclus leaned down to capture his husband’s lips fully. “ _More than anything_.”  
Achilles cupped the back of his neck bringing him closer. Patroclus found himself on his back, Achilles loomed over him. Red blooming across his tan cheeks, while his eyes roamed him in a predatory fashion.

“I won,” he snickered.

Patroclus reached up to pull a leave from his tangled hair, before tugging him down. Rejoining their lips, he rocked up into him hoping his lover would pick up on his desire.  
Achilles slowly picked up the pace, and he drew his nails up his back. His lover wouldn’t admit it, but he loved when he marked him up. Achilles groaned quietly, into his neck.  
They were both dripping in sweat, still haven't reached their peak. They were fumbling around, as they had when they first became lovers. So unsure of themselves, but now they knew each other well enough to drive each other mad.

  
Achilles was toying with him. He would increase his thrusts getting him close before slowing down again. The bastard even had the nerve to grin at him, when he had finally caught on.  
Then he pulled out, Patroclus sat up on his elbows. Now, what was he up to.

“What are you doing?” he was mildly put out. His chest heaving slightly as he fought to regain his breath. Achilles wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Turn around,” he breathed, teething at his pulse. Patroclus rolled his eyes, but was moving to comply. Too slow for his lover’s taste and he found himself on his belly, ass high in the air. The bastard even smacked it. His cheeks reddened further, anyone could come by and see them like this. Him like this.

“People are going to see,” he hissed at him, arranging himself up on his arms.

“I thought you didn’t care if they saw or not,” Achilles snickered, positioning his hips. His lover had a point, but that was something he had said in the haze of lust.

“There is no one else around, I have you all to myself. And, I’m going to make you scream,” he promised, kissing at the nape of his neck. Gods, if he wasn’t positively dripping before, then he was now.

“Please,” he whispered, no longer caring. Achilles was right, there was no one around for miles.

  
Achilles intertwined his fingers with his before pushing inside. Dropping his forehead to the soft grass below. Gods, this was-.  
Ajax was wrong, he still felt amazing wrapped around him.

* * *

  
They were both breathing hard, coming down from the high of it. Before Achilles remembered he wasn’t supposed to sleep with him. At least not the way he just had, again he gotten out of control.

“We were suppose to be training, not having sex,” he muttered withdrawing from him. Laying on his back, lightly swiping under his nose. No blood this time. Patroclus snorted, watching him.

“We did, and then had some fun. What’s wrong with that?,” Patroclus moaned slightly, just to tease him further. Stretching and flopping next to him. He was going to kill him. before finally settled himself against his chest.

 

“Besides, we did this alot when were younger, sneaking off to have sex. Telling Chiron we were ‘wrestling’.” Achilles drew his fingers up his hip. 

 

“I pretty sure he knew what, we were up to really. Because you were so loud,” Achilles joked, and by all the Gods wasn’t he. By the time they had finished, he had him quivering and shaking screaming himself hoarse.

 

“ We were both equally loud, and could be because there was no one around for miles.” 

  
  
“Wanna go again?,” Patroclus asked playfully, straddling him. Hades, he was really trying to kill him.

  
“Aren’t you satisfied?”

  
  
“No, because I hardly have your attentions anymore,” he pouted. “You find me repulsive, why else would you continue to find excuses to avoid coming to bed.”

 

“That isn’t true,” he replied sitting up, “ You’ve been recovering from having our child, I would never.”

 

“ I had Alex nearly six months ago, haven’t I rested enough? Machon even cleared me for the field”

 

If Achilles thought he wasn’t going back to the battlefield he was mistaken. Agamemnon held a grudge against them both. Enough to the point he had their Myrmidons in line with the Trojan archers.

  
One arrow and it would be over.

 

“No, I wanted to be sure of your health. You’re my everything, my very heart. I couldn’t bear it if I hurt you,” his cheeks flushed. Patroclus cupped his face.

 

“You worry about impregnating me again,” he summarized, and his lover flushed even harder. That was why he hadn’t being properly coming to bed. What a silly reason.

 

“Yes,” Achilles answered turning his face away a bit. Patroclus snickered slightly, his husband was so adorable.

 

“You won’t.” he said, gently leaning his forehead against his lover.

 

“How do you know that? I’ve already gotten you with child twice, another could kill you,” that was his deepest fear. Losing him.

 

“Because I'm nursing our son and taking anti-conception herbs, I’m not pregnant. ” His bleeding would further cement this.

 

“And the last two times, you got me with child without even penetrating me,” he laughed, kissing him again.

 

“Besides there are other ways for us to enjoy,” he whispered pulling back.

Oh, Gods if Achilles turned any redder, surely he would have another nosebleed. That wouldn’t do.

* * *

 

“You do know you can’t seduce the enemy like this.” Achilles started.

  
Patroclus snorted against him.

  
“I’m well aware that this only works on you.”

  
“Your footwork was sloppy.” Achilles continued.

  
Patroclus groaned, “ Achilles, really is this the time for this.”

  
“Well, it’s true. You need to..”

  
Patroclus tuned the rest of his speech out.

* * *

  
“Hello cousin,” a voice startled him, while he was finishing a stitch across a warrior's chest. A clean slash across the his chest, but it would heal in time. Thank the Gods, he was done with the most crucial part.

  
“Ajax,” he returned tying the last of the bandage. It was probably a minor wound.

  
Finished he helped the soldier stand and he staggered off.  
Turning around Ajax was a sight. Blood dripping sluggishly down his temple. Patroclus quickly settled him down, pressing a bandage to the wound. Except he couldn't tell where the bleeding had started from. Carefully he searched his blond hair, that was becoming matted.  
Near the center of his skull, there was the wound.

  
Oh Gods, it was so deep. The skull was nearly visible.

  
“Ajax how did you get this?,” if he knew how, then it could be treated more effectively.

  
“A damned Trojan knocked me out with his shield,” Ajax spit.  
Reexamining the wound, he did see that it was somewhat curved. Patroclus made a “mhm”, as he mixed something to ease his pain.

  
“ Just hold that in place for a moment,” moving the blood soaked bandage to rest at the actual wound.

  
Ajax caught his wrist before he could turn back to mixing.

  
“Don't trouble yourself, I wish to be clear of mind for this.”

  
Patroclus wanted to argue with him, but wouldn't deny his wishes.

  
“Tell me how is my cousin and his son.” Ajax didn't  even wince as he pulled the needle through.

  
“ They are well, Alex is getting so big, I can hardly believe he will be a year soon."

  
“ Are his little cheeks chubby?,” Ajax asked as the third stitch went through.

  
“ Very, I suppose that is my fault though.” Achilles spoiled Alex with letting him have his way and he never denied him when he wanted milk. Even if he had fed him earlier.

 

“Probably not, you should have seen Achilles as a babe. He was such a greedy thing, his nurses had to wean him early for he liked to chew on their tits. Except he didn't have teeth.”

 

Patroclus couldn't help the giggle that escaped him. He tried imagining, Achilles as a babe who terrified his wet nurses. The more he thought about it the funnier it became. It was also concerning, because if it was true then he was to wean Alex as soon as possible. His babe had a tendency to pull a little hard. And his teeth had yet to come in, but soon they would.

 

“ That isn't true,” he said, at the seventh stitch. Patroclus had to work quickly to close it before infection could sent in. Just keep him talking.

 

“ Oh, but it is. My cousin would probably ring my neck for telling you such things.”

 

Patroclus smiled. Achilles may have seemed to hate Ajax’s constant teasing, but actually enjoyed his company. Patroclus loved hearing some of the embarrassing stories he held about his lover. How Achilles had turned so crimson when Ajax had called him a chubby child.

 

 

> “He was so fat that he once fell, and his nurse had to roll him over,” Patroclus had laughed until he cried. Phoinix confirmed and Achilles sulked most of the night. Alex kindly comforting him. Their sweet babe.

He loved the feeling of having a family. With a war around them, surrounded by family and friends made all the troubles melt away for a moment.

 

“ You know I never got to thank you for helping my Tecmessa deliver our babe” Patroclus was at the eleventh stitch.

 

“ There is no need for thanks. I only assisted. Machon did most of the work.”

  
Ajax went to shake his head, but Patroclus held him in place.

 

“ Hold still, I'm almost done.” If he had to guess ten more stitches.

 

Finally, he was finished. Carefully he rinsed Ajax’s hair of blood and bandaged him before forcing him to lay down.

  
“I haven’t got time for this. Tecmessa will be worried.” Ajax jerked as he sat up.

 

Patroclus brushed his hand across his forehead. A slight fever was forming. Curses, he hadn’t been fast enough. He wasn’t going anywhere.

 

“I’ll tell her, you need rest. You wouldn’t want to frighten her looking like this would you?”

  
Ajax grumbled, but didn’t fight him this time when he gave him the cup. Nothing that would impair his thinking, just something to bring his fever down.  
Patroclus called to Machon to watch him, he was going to inform Tecmessa as promised.

* * *

 

It was late when he returned to the Myrmidon camp, Achilles was feeding Alex. He didn’t want to intrude just yet. They were so cute together.

Achilles was trying to feed Alex, but he turned his nose up at the mush. More of it ended up on Achilles than it did in Alex’s mouth. His son wanted his milk not mush. Hmm, it seemed weaning Alex would be no easy task. Alex's face was scrunched up, he was about to have a fit, if he didn't get what he desired.

 

“Here let me take him, my love,” he held his arms out for him and Achilles passed him their son. 

 

The moment his tunic and bandages were loosened, Alex latched on.  
His features softened immediately into contentment. Patroclus leaned to kiss his forehead, his sweet babe. He could wean him later, he wasn’t old enough yet.

 

“You’ll need some new clothes soon,” he whispered, wiping off Alex’s face and changing his clothes. Alex reached for him. He was so adorable. Especially with how chubby he was.  
He glanced at Achilles, trying to picture him as a babe. Chubby or not. Their babe would grow to be so handsome, due him taking after Achilles so much.

 

“ I saw Ajax, today,” he told Achilles, rocking Alex against his shoulder.

Soon he would be ready for bed. Hopeful he won’t fuss too much, he was drained from the day’s events. From training, to the medic tent, to rushing back to Alex. Gods above, he hated Agamemnon for putting his family in danger. He was running them into the ground one day it would be Achilles or one of their men hurt. Gods, Tecumessa had cried so terribly, thinking her lover dead. Her cries made his heart clench. For he could have easily been in her shoes. Achilles was so fucking reckless, it drove him crazy.

 

“He wasn’t bothering you, I hope,” Achilles looked up ever so often from the scrolls in front of him. His husband looked even more worn out. His slim fingers running through his damp hair, every so often trying to make sense of the numbers. When he put Alex to bed, he would go over them with him.

  
  
“No, he was injured in the medical tent,” Alex reached for his curls once more and he gently moved his hand back. Alex wanted to throw a fit, quickly he pulled out his favorite rattle.

 

“Oh,” Achilles’ tone seemed nonchalant, but he heard the concern in it. As much as they butted heads, he knew they cared for each other.

 

“A Trojan’s shield to his skull.” Achilles’ breath caught, “ the wound was quite deep.”

 

Patroclus was quick to elaborate, “ I stitched him right up, but he didn’t seem to want anything to dull the pain.”

 

“ I can imagine why.”

 

Patroclus waited for him to say more but he didn’t. Achilles glanced back down at the scrolls. He tried lightening the sudden heavy mood around them.

 

“But he did tell me more stories from when you were a baby.” he snickered. Achilles glanced up almost startled, but hid it.

 

Ajax was going too far lately. First, he made crude comments about his and Patroclus’ relations. Then had the nerve to expose his childhood’s darkest secrets. Ajax and his lover got on like a house on fire. Whispering and swapping stories about him. He could tell because they often stopped when he glanced over at them. Sometimes he regretted introducing them.

  
Okay, maybe he was a tad sore about him exposing how chubby he used be as a child. Ajax had been exaggerating he had only had chubby cheeks nothing more. Phoinix had even played along. Traitors, the lot of them. Patroclus had tried not to laugh but he failed. His giggles had been so sweet, he couldn’t fault him. And he had made it up to him tenfold.

“ Whatever he told you was lies, all of them.” Patroclus laughed a little.

 

“So, you didn’t chew on your wet nurses’ teats.”

 

Gods, Achilles turned so red, he was sure he would catch fire.

 

Damn him to Hades.

 

“ I did not.”

 

Patroclus couldn’t help, but laugh harder. Alex’s soft giggles added to the atmosphere.  
Achilles smiled fondly at them, they were so adorable with their laughter. On a side note, Ajax was a dead man. A very dead man.

* * *

 

Their training had skipped the usual steps and went to what they did right after training.

 

“Hnh,” he moaned into his neck. A small trickle down his inner thighs reminded him, of what had started.

 

“Achilles, we need to stop” he panted pushing him away. His lover pulled back immediately.

 

“I’m bleeding,” he explained, hoping he would understand. That got an immediate reaction of his lover trying to find where.

 

“It’s my monthly bleeding,” he added hoping to stop his panic. He relaxed, instantly.

 

“Oh,” Achilles muttered quietly, before recapturing his mouth. Patroclus let him before drawing away again.

 

“Doesn’t that bother you?” he panted a little dizzy. Achilles rested his forehead against his green eyes playfully.

 

“No, why would it? It’s only a little blood,” he whispered into the space between them.

 

“It’s dirty,” Patroclus told him and Achilles snorted. It was only blood, he didn’t mind it all. Every day he was bathed in it.

 

“It’s natural, not gross. I know a way to make you feel better,” he whispered. Finally, he had way to relieve his pain, now that he knew what caused him to be ill monthly. No longer did he have to just stand by and watch him suffer.

 

“How?,” he was a little curious, but vaguely had an idea.

 

“Deidamia’s foster sisters used to whisper how when their monthly bleeding came, how it was eased with the help of a lover.”

 

Patroclus now rolled his eyes,“ No, that’s filthy.” To sleep with him during pregnancy was one thing but this was a whole other thing.

 

“How would you know? If you haven’t even tried it.” Achilles dragged his thumb over his lip. Golden flecks appeared in his eyes.

  
By all the Gods it sounded so tempting, but he felt how it slid down his thighs. He wouldn’t dare subject him to that. However, he blushed at the thought of it.

 

“Hmm, are you quite sure?” his eyes were heavy with wicked intentions. Wicked intentions he was very much for. If not for the trouble that plagued him.

 

“I’m very talented with my tongue,” the way he airily said this, made him pause.

 

“You want to taste my menstrual blood, that's-,” he couldn’t even find the words to finish.

 

“Only if you want me to,” why was he so eager to have him like this. Was his bloodlust so great that he wanted to lap at him?

 

“ I bled heavily,” he crossed his arms. This was just no, he wasn’t going to entertain this any longer.

  
“I won’t do anything, you aren’t comfortable with,” his voice dropped ever lower. While his other hand played at the end of his tunic, hiking it up ever so slightly.

  
It moved up no further, and he appeared to be waiting for his permission.

* * *

 

His lips were crimson when he finally came up. Achilles casually wiped the excess away, not even bothered. Red streaked the back of his hand. Gods.  
“Better?” Achilles asked, sluggishly he nodded. The blissfulness he felt was amazing, the cramps had eased to a dull ache.

 

“Much,” Patroclus said blushing and Achilles gave him such a smirk, eyes taking that cat shaped gleam. So pleased with himself, and he had reason to be.

 

“Good,” he said, cupping his cheek. Patroclus recoiled from him, and he laughed.

 

Cheeky bastard. Achilles held up his hands in mock surrender, before lunging for him again.

 

“Achilles, lemme go,” he screeched in between laughs.

 

“You’re being cruel to me, I only wish to kiss you.”

 

“ With blood staining your mouth.”

 

“It’s your own blood,” Achilles told him, crowding further into his space. He wanted to kiss him too, just not like that.

  
Arguing with Achilles was a lost venture, instead he passed him the wine skin.

 

“Here, rinse out your mouth, perhaps then I’ll reward you with a kiss.”

 

Achilles took a sip, swishing it around before spitting it out when he was finished. Patroclus leaned over to kiss him, as promised. A slight metallic taste permeated their kiss, but he didn’t hate it. After all it was his own blood.

  
Patroclus thought Achilles would take the incentive to finish what he started, getting him so riled up. Instead, he took him into his arms, gently rubbing circles at his sides.  
Patroclus shouldn’t have felt so disappointed, but he did. For all Achilles’ persuasion nothing had come from it.

“Are you still hurting?,” Achilles breathed, his fingers still tracing at his side.

 

“A little,” he responded curling up into his arms. Achilles suddenly was on his feet with him in his arms. He had been too distracted by the ebbing of his cramps.

 

“You need to rest,” he told him.

 

“I thought you were helping me through my bleeding,” he was trying not to pout. Achilles chuckled not once stopping.

 

“This was for your benefit not mine,” Achilles continued his trek along the path.

 

“What if I wanted it to be for both our benefit?” Hades take him now. He can’t believe what he was asking him to do.

 

Achilles stopped, glancing down at him.

 

“Are you sure? You seem a little squicked out by the idea,” now he wanted to tease him.

 

“ I didn't hate it,” he confessed wishing for the ground to swallow him up.

 

“Oh, you didn’t ?” Achilles’ grin was so wolfish.

 

“I didn’t,” he repeated his blush growing ever crimson.

* * *

 

Their clearing was peacefully and birds sang from the trees above them. They didn’t pay them any mind, content to suck on each others tongues. Patroclus’ fingers tangled in his hair, practically devouring his mouth. His own hands wandered downwards again. Achilles near having him again, if his eagerness was anything to go by.

“Your highnesses,” they both stilled.

 

“I thought you said few knew of this path,” Achilles breathed, pulling back. Patroclus’ lips were swollen and slick with spit.

 

“The only other person, who would know is-,” Automedon came into view. On his hip, a wiggling Alexander. Patroclus separated from him, and they tried to make themselves presentable. Uncaring of their nakedness, Automedon deposited the fussing baby into Patroclus’ arms.

  
  
“Your highnesses,” the younger boy bowed quickly, before leaving. They glanced at one another, before Alexander started his wailing. At times Automedon’s timing was less than desirable. Patroclus dabbed at Alex’s little face, dried tears tracks were on his face, poor thing.

 

“Oh, you poor thing,” he held him to his chest. Instantly, he latched on. He smoothed out the wrinkles in his tiny brow, oh his poor babe. It was well past his feeding.

Achilles rolled onto his stomach, just watching him. His golden tresses spilled freely over his shoulders, his posture relaxed and sated like a lazy cat in the sun. A tan hand pushed back the free fall of curls, a leaf dislodged itself.

  
Achilles grinned at him, his eyes taking their usual cat eye shape. They only did that when he was up to no good.  
He was nursing their son for the Gods’ sakes, Achilles had his fun.

 

“Stop leering at me, I can feel it,” he muttered looking down at their son, whose tiny fingers grappled for better purchase at his small chest. Taking deep and greedy gulps, he must have been starving. Gods, he felt so guilty, perhaps his lover was right. His place was with Alex, at least until he was weaned.

 

“I’m not,” was his playfully response. He wasn’t, not truly.

Patroclus was just so beautiful like this, holding their son so lovingly. Never had he dreamed that he would be so blessed. Patroclus’ cheeks were reddening, how lovely. Achilles sent him another predatory grin, and was rewarded with the red spreading further in his high cheeks. Aphrodite, had blessed not only his son, but lover with such beauty.

 

“Our son is literally at my chest as we speak,” he hissed quietly.

 

“He has no idea what we are speaking of or what we did,” Achilles informed him, his grin growing more and more wolfish by the minute. Patroclus was so lovely, with his cheeks so red and vibrant. Gods, he was so perfect, like this. They would be happy.  
  
Gods above he was insatiable. At least let him wean one child before putting another on him. Wait, did he want another child. Patroclus had sworn to himself, that he won’t go through that again. It hurt too much and besides he had been quite nasty to everyone during his pregnancy. Achilles especially. He settled Alex a little more firmly on his chest. That thought would just be put in the back of his mind for consideration.

 

“I would give him a bit more credit he is very intelligent for his age,” he told him.

 

“Hmm, then I suppose he would know what we did before his birth,” he mumbled drowsy from his elbows. Patroclus hoped he had a good time teasing him, because he was going to sorely regret it later. After some time, he felt no heated glances when he peeked over at him, Achilles was falling asleep.

His golden lashes were slowly fluttering closed, had he worn him out that much. Or the heat was getting to him, either way he nursed their son in peace. When he finished, Alex twisted and wiggled in his arms wanting to be free. He checked the ground for snakes and other insects before settling him in the grass. Alex crawled over to his napping father, pulling at his hair. He did love shiny things. Achilles should have stopped his habit, by now.

 

“Ba, ba,” he babbled.

Achilles snorted a bit, before one eye cracked open. He rolled onto his back, and allowed the babe to crawl on his chest. Patroclus scooted next to them and Alex crawled over his father’s chest, prodding his tiny fingers into his face. Patroclus had to turn his head as not to laugh, a proud warrior subdued by a mere babe.

 

“Love aren’t you going to help,” he pleaded, moving Alex’s curious finger from going too close to his eye. That's what he got for being so crude. Patroclus pretended not to hear him, instead picked at a few small flowers surrounding him. They were long enough for a small crown, perhaps for their baby.  
Eventually, Alex grew tired of poking and pulling at his father’s hair and face and yawned.

 

Achilles settled him at his chest, glancing over at his husband who leaned up on his forearms. Patroclus too, was fighting the effects of the weather. Dark lashes moving slowly, each time they stayed closed a little longer.

  
“ I think he is sleepy, my love. He yawns continuously,” Achilles told him, and right on cue Alex yawned again.

  
“ I should retire with him then,” he moved to take him. Achilles wouldn’t let him. He was so protective of their son when he held him, afraid that he would never hold him again.

  
“He can sleep here on my chest, you do so all the time,” Achilles said quietly, not wanting to disturb Alex’s sleep. Patroclus nodded and continued with his little crown of flowers, when it was finished placed it on his babe’s glossy curls.

  
Patroclus watched both his loves fall asleep. Golden hair and skin gleaming in the light, how startling the way they glowed, how everything weighed upon them. For now he try to enjoy his time with them.

  
“Mmh,” he sighed, glazing at the clear blue sky. Under his skin he felt a pressure in the air. A storm was coming.

* * *

  
Automedon could no longer stand Alex’s distressing cries. Bundling the baby up, then went to look for his parents. Who were supposed to be “training”, there were wasn’t much training from what he had seen. 

If they continued as they did. Alex would soon have another sibling. It didn’t help that the little prince was already very spoiled, he wanting his mother’s attention always.  Crying for him even when he had been fed and no other would do. 

As he had predicted the prince wasn’t bothered in the least by his lover’s new marks or bit of weight, from what he had seen. If anything Achilles could hardly kept his hands to himself, if Patroclus could see himself. Marks down his neck, a bruised imprint of hands on his waist. There was a reason a bet was going around.  
Automedon wondered if he had been taking herbs as he suggested. For all their sakes.  


* * *

 

When he blinked into consciousness again, tiny green eyes met his. He smiled, Alex was in the middle of them. Sitting up stretching for a moment, before noticed the little flower crown was askew in Alex's hair. He righted it.

  
“You’re finally awake,” Achilles told him, allowing Alex to crawl back into his lap.

 

“ I wasn't asleep that long,” he argued. His lover paid him no mind too busy trying to make Alex giggle, tickling him.

 

He giggled again when his father pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. Achilles’ green eyes brightened when he finally saw the little crown in his hair.

 

“That is such a lovely crown you have in your hair,” Alex babbled in response. Achilles looked at him when he said this. From his smile, he could tell he was remembering a time when he made them for him.

  
Alex reached at his tiny hand towards Achilles’ golden hair, and tugged on it. His lover beamed in response, pressing a kiss to his small fingers. They were perfect, his little family.  
Patroclus leaned his head on his knees watching them. He loved them, and wished it could be like this forever. If only.

  
Achilles glanced over at him, beckoning him closer. When he was in front of him, he watched in awe as Alex wobbled on his chubby legs before Achilles caught him. A grin passed between them.

 

“He is growing so quickly, soon he’ll be walking,” Achilles passed him another soft smile, “ And if he is half as stubborn as someone I know. He’ll probably be walking sooner."

 

He held Alex firmly in his embrace to kept him from standing again. “ He cried and threw a tantrum when he first did it and fell over. Luckily, he fell on me and the soft grass.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Patroclus told him, Achilles looked at him bemused.

 

“Why are you sorry? I can handle him,” he said and Alex freed himself of his grip to crawl over to his lap. “Or not,” he chuckled.

  
“Come here you naughty babe, you’re making me look bad,” Alex seemed happy where he was, pulling at his tunic. He was hungry again, undoing the shoulder of his tunic settled him back at his chest.

 

“Achilles, you know what I meant,” he said playing with Alex’s curls. Straightening them as best as he could. Alexander was lost in his own little world, it seemed. Ow, he was pulling a little hard. Another moment passed between them, understanding filled his green eyes.

 

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You’re right I have no right to dictate your actions. That was wrong of me to just assume what I know is best for you. I’m sorry,” Achilles sighed raking through his hair. Patroclus reached over Alex for his hand, Achilles squeezed back.

 

“ I admit I can be a little headstrong at times, I know have been driving you insane this past year. Pregnancy made me a little mean.”

 

A little mean, that was an understatement. Achilles had never heard him swear and scream so much, often at him. Often he was afraid to be near him, his temper a storm. He could almost hear Ganymede mocking him, “ **He’s pregnant, what could he possibly do to you**?” Apparently a lot according to his later statements. Thankfully, it was well past the Festival of Dionysus.

 

Of course he would never say such things, Patroclus seemed to be his sweet, gentle self again.

  
“You were only trying to look after me and I made it harder on you. I know how stressed you were already and I only made it worse. You had so much put on your shoulders and I was selfish thinking of only myself,” Achilles squeezed his hand. His beloved was never selfish.

 

“I went into battle after you told me to stay behind. I wasn’t thinking about all the dangers, I thought only of you, of your honor. How I would shame you.” Achilles moved closer to him, his eyes blazing, as they had long ago.

 

“I don’t care about that, I care only for you and him. Nothing matters to me more. Then knowing that you two are safe. Damn my honor and reputation.” Achilles kissed his cheek.

 

“You promised me something long ago, do you remember it?” he muttered moving back. Patroclus ducked his head shyly. How could he.

 

“I promised that you be the first hero to be happy.” Alex detached himself and he switched him to the other side.

  
  
“Because?,” Achilles brushed his other thumb carefully across his cheek. Alex glanced up eyes curious.

 

“I would be the reason,” Patroclus blushed.

 

“You both would be the reason,” Achilles stated, kissing Alex’s curls.

  
“I love you both of you too much, to be parted from you,” he promised. Godhood seemed so far away, and he was much happier here with his family. Achilles tried to push down the subtle ache of Pyrrhus’ absence. How he wished things could have gone differently.

* * *

 

Just as they had arrived back in camp as it began to pour, the wind and rain soaking everything. A few pails had been set up around their tent to collect the excess water. Patroclus had moved Alex’ cradle further into the center, before he decided he would be more comfortable in his arms.

Patroclus thought he would cry more, but instead he was calm, as the wind howled. Then again he and his lover were of water, of the sea. A little rain and wind was nothing to them. But the sky was so dark, so he got a few candles to light so Alex wouldn’t be afraid.

 Achilles wrapped his arms around him. Alex babbled ever so often, trying to reach for Achilles’ hair. His lover let him, perhaps to keep him calm. Patroclus refrained from sighing, if this is how the rain would be in camp, imagine when the winter time came. 

* * *

  
For once Agamemnon had granted them a few days to be with their families. In truth, Menelaus had pushed for the order.

  
“Do you think they will marry?,” Patroclus asked him out of the blue. It took him a moment to catch on to what his lover was saying. Right, Diomedes was expecting Menelaus’ child. What a strange turn of events. They shared a naughty grin, poor poor Diomedes. Patroclus was right when Achilles had seen him last, he looked like death himself. His lover had to turn his head as not to laugh, as he mimicked his horrible retching.

Alexander glanced up for a moment before he went back to chewing on his blanket. Patroclus sighed catching him before getting him a piece of soft bread to chew on instead. A play of hand and he switched the blanket end for the bread. Alex’s tiny brow wrinkled up in confusion before he was happily nibbling on it.

Patroclus went back to his work of folding and pinning a new set of garments for him. He was growing so quickly, they could scarcely keep up with his growth. He was so chubby, Gods so cute.

 

“I pray for it, then we can all go home. Helen can live out her days with Paris,” the day that happened is the day Helen came running back.

 

“I hope he does, Diomedes seems to be in love with him. How strange, is it not?,” his lover continued, pausing in his work briefly to give Alex another piece of bread.

  
“How are they strange?,” Achilles asked absentmindedly. Patroclus was picking up their men's’ favorite pastime, gossip. Though he had a point, their romance was a little strange, if it could even be called that.

  
A farce more like it, on Menelaus’ part. Carriers were rare and many took advantage of how they bore sons. Menelaus was as shady as his elder brother, but not quite as cruel. He would treat him well if he wanted his pregnancy to go well. If he wanted his son, healthy. It was detestable for Menelaus to use him like that. The king had plenty of sons, there was no need for him to endanger his life. Never again could he do that to Patroclus, it was too risky.

 

“Menelaus, I know for a fact is old enough to be his father twice over. Diomedes is near our age, but for a few years. Besides I hear he has many sons already with other mothers, poor Diomedes, his heart will be broken….,” Achilles stopped his sharpening to watch his lover for a moment. His attention it seemed was split between sewing, gossiping, and giving Alex various pieces of bread. His husband. Gods, he was perfect.

  
  
Alexander looked to his mother for more of his wondrous bread, and when he found his mother's attention was lacking on being focus on something other than him.  
A wail startling them both, “Pa- pa,” he cried reaching for him and Patroclus was already kneeling to cradle him.

“Here my love, don’t cry, I’m here,” he cooed trying to calm him. “It’s alright I’m here.”

  
From that moment on he worked with Alex clinging to his shoulder. Achilles made faces behind Patroclus’ back to get his son to smile. For his efforts, he was awarded a bright gummy smile. A pretty smile just like his lover’s. Abandoning all further attempts at sharpening his sword, sheathed it, and went to take Alex from Patroclus. Alex came into his arm with little fuss.

 

His son’s curious hand went for his hair, babbling and holding it. For some reason all babies and children loved his hair, they reached for it immediately. Ajax’s son had even yanked a few strands and he was but a few days old. So young, and he already had his father’s strength. Achilles never complained or pulled back when Alex reached for it, in fact all his son seemed to do was hold it and admire it. And pull it when he wasn’t looking, naughty babe.

 

“You have your own golden hair,” he told him and the babe only giggled. Achilles kissed his forehead, settling firmly in his arms. When they drew away from Patroclus, that is when he started to whimper a bit, so he stayed where his son could see his mother.

  
“He is very spoiled, my love. I hate to see as he grows,” he laughed. Patroclus sent him a curious look, but didn’t respond.

 

“All most done,” he said instead. So Achilles sought a way to entertain his babe, who wriggled to be free. A few moments of shaking a silver ring seemed to hold his attention, Patroclus joined him on the rug next to Alexander.

 

“ All finished,” he told him kissing his cheek, before taking Alex back.

  
“Come here my little love, let’s see if these fit better,” he told him settling him on their bed. Removing his tunic for a bigger one.

 

Alex flayed his chubby arms against him to reach for his curls and he evaded his grip ever so gracefully.

 

“That isn’t kind, my love,” Patroclus whispered softly to their babe.

  
Who babbled a small “Papa” in response.

 

“And you, it’s okay to scold him sometimes about reaching for hair otherwise he’ll pull on all those he meets,” he said, turning to him. Achilles fixed his face to the very picture of innocence.

 

“I do,” and Patroclus glared at him. Well, he tries, but Alex was quite persistent. He liked pretty things. Jewelry, hair, if it caught his eye he wanted it.

 

“Yet you wonder why he is so spoiled, when you let him have his way.” Achilles shrugged at him, he hated to see him cry. Hated to see both of his loves cry for any reason.

 

“He’ll grow out of it,” Achilles said bringing over a golden ball for him to play with while Patroclus worked around him to redress him.

 

“ I hope so,” Patroclus responded, tying his new tunic around him.

 

“There you are,” he cooed at him. Alex was still trying to chew on the ball, when he couldn’t offered it to him. Patroclus took it despite it being sticky with slobber.

 

“Thank you, my little love,” he said kissing his cheek.

 

“Pa-pa,” Alex called, holding his chubby arms out for him.

 

“Papa’s sorry he scolded you,” he whispered into his golden curls. Achilles snickered quietly, now who was soft with their son.

 

“Not a word,” he muttered catching him. Achilles held his hands up in surrender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ajax: tells Pat all of Achilles' mad embarrassing stories.
> 
> Achilles: Blatant lies.


	5. Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I finally got around to posting this. I apologize for how short it is but do you ever just like not want to write because of what you know is about to happen. Like I already have the ending for this chapter written and the rest leading up is kinda like filler.
> 
> Anyway let me stop. I'm rambling. Enjoy this week's chapter. :)

The palace servants were bustling around every corridor. However when she passed, they all paused in their work, hatred clear in their eyes. Helen sighed quietly, simply adjusting her veil. Changing her direction from Paris' rooms to  Queen Hecuba’s gardens, where she would be free from their scrutiny.  
A truce was being discussed “for the winter.” She withheld a snort. All knew it was because Menelaus has impregnated a carrier. Who were known to pop out sons in litters, what Menelaus craved more than anything.

  
The Achaean army could not continue without his forces, that he couldn’t lead with his condition. Fools, she hoped Hector would deny their truce and slaughter them all. For none could beat him, she paused. Except.

  
The Scourge of Troy, the great hero, Achilles. Who had also bedded and wedded a carrier. Helen heard his name was, Patroclus and that he battled at his husband's side five months pregnant. Until, Achilles forced him from the field.

  
Patroclus reminded her of her brother-in-law’s wife, Andromeda. What she lacked in beauty she made up in her kind nature and brute strength. Hector was completely taken with her, she wondered if it was the same for Achilles and his husband. A shame she would never know. The negotiations were tonight, of course she wasn’t allowed to attend in the event it was a trap.

  
Question was with the news of her husband's pregnant lover, would she be left here with Paris in peace? As there was talk of them marrying. Ha. Agamemnon would never allow it.

  
And she also knew Menelaus, his little affairs never lasted long. There would be no wedding, as long as she was behind this wall or else the men might have just stayed home. Even if he loved him, her shadow would always hang between them. He would always come back to her.

  
**_He always had._ **

* * *

 

The clang of swords ran out in the nearby clearing, a crowd gathered to watch.

  
Briseis watched as Achilles and Patroclus traded blows with deadly and accurate precision. While he was fast and his blows sharp, Achilles often left wide arches, which Patroclus took full advantage of. He looked so handsome with his curls pushed back from his face with a leather headband. The white of his chiton contrasted nicely with his dark skin gleaming with sweat. She caught herself cheering for him to herself. Alex squirmed in her arms, she adjusted him so he wouldn't fall.

  
The duel was clearly winding down with victor clear, Achilles as always. However at the last minute Patroclus caught him by surprise.

  
Hooking his leg under his ankle, in moments he went down. Patroclus loomed over him his blade pressed at his throat. The crowd went silent.

  
_“If only he would press a little harder, they could all be free of him,_ ” she thought. Patroclus would never do that, he loved Achilles too much to even think of such a thing.

  
Instead he asked, “Yield.”

  
Achilles seemed to consider it, before springing up his own blade was against his throat, “Do you?” he returned.

  
“Never,” and their dance began again. The men cheered for their princes.

* * *

 

Alexander started fidgeting a little in her arms, wanting his mother. One could just tell, he loved his mother, and few could blame him.

  
“Pa,” he gurgled, making grabbing motions at Patroclus, oh Gods. He truly wanted his mother, it wouldn’t be long before his wailing started.

  
"Papa," he whimpered again. She started bouncing him on her hip hoping to soothe him.

  
His parents were still clashing swords, but now the friendly banter had gone out of it. It was a real battle one between enemies not lovers.

  
A cry startled them all, Alexander’s tiny red mouth parted erupting in an ear splitting scream, distracted Patroclus let his focus slip. Giving Achilles the perfect opening to pin him, the metal resting above his heart.

  
“Yiled,” he demanded.

  
Patroclus pushed the blade away, “ I yield.”

  
Achilles grinned at him before holding his hand out, his lover ignored it heading straight for her.

  
Carefully, she held the wailing babe out to him. Despite being his mother's arms, his cries continued.

  
"Ssh, my love. I'm here now," he cooed running his hand along his back. His cries rang out even louder. Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere with him, this was a matter best done in private.

  
Patroclus began walking back to their tent, glancing back briefly to see Achilles had both swords in hand. He fought the urge to sneer, how stupid of him. He should have known better.

  
Briseis trailed after him awkwardly making apologies, gently he brushed them away.

  
"There is nothing you could have done. When Alexander decides he's hungry there is little chance of him not crying."

  
Alex was still wailing his little lungs off, once he stuck a tit in his mouth he would be calm.

  
"Not much longer, Alex. Bear with this a moment longer."

* * *

 

“There you are, my sweet,” he murmured to his baby, who was once again calm at his chest. Outwardly, he displayed a calm disposition inside he was fuming. Not because he had lost, but because he and Achilles had dueled before. He had won fair and square, however Achilles wanted a rematch which he had agreed to. How stupid of him to agree to such a thing. Patroclus had beaten him in the first round and would have in the second had Alex not been hungry.

  
The flaps parted, he couldn't even look at him.

  
"Are you angry with me?" Patroclus pretended to not have heard him, raising his chin.

  
"No," he spat finally.  Achilles hid a wince, he was upset.

  
"It was fair," he amended, "I have no reason to be upset."

  
"Patroclus," he started.

  
"Don't waste your breath, I should be allowed back to the field," he said looking back at Alex. Again with this.

  
"It isn't safe for you." Why could he understand that?

  
Patroclus glanced up at him, his eyes a storm.

  
"You keep saying that as if it will change my mind," he paused to adjust their son to the other side, "I know that and I have known that from the moment we sailed."

  
"You aren't ready."

  
His lips curled up, that familiar fire rising in his eyes, "And I will never be ready. You keep saying wait and wait. How much longer do I have to wait? If I wait any longer, you could be hurt. Agamemnon hates you and has our people in line with the archers. Trojan arches, Achilles. "

  
Every word, rising with volume. Alexander wiggled slightly feeling his mother’s ire. Patroclus lowered his tone and slightly brushed his fingers through Alex’s curls to soothe him.

  
Achilles bent down to take his face into his palms, “Love, I’ll be fine. I swear it. You will be allowed back when you can beat me.” Patroclus turned his head.

  
He gave a low chuckle, “Achilles I have trained with you most of my childhood, I am match for most men purely because I have trained with you. Or is it because you think I’m weak?”

  
“No-,” that wasn’t the reason at all.

  
“I’m weak because I bore your child,” he gestured to their son cradled at his chest, “you think lesser of me. You think I’m fragile.”

  
“I don’t think that. Why are you twisting my words? I never said or implied any of that.”

  
“You did imply it, I have beaten you twice-nearly thrice now.”

  
“Through seduction and dirty tricks,” he shot back. Achilles regretted the words the moment he said them. The fire seemed to burn all the more intensely in his dark eyes.

  
“I did seduce you afterwards, but our duel was fair. At the time you didn’t seem to mind.”

  
He stood with Alex at his shoulder, “ And on the battlefield there is no such thing as fair or honorable. Only kill or be killed.”

 

“Be fair to me and keep your word.”

  
The tent flaps closed with his quiet fury and Achilles groaned. He hadn't meant any of it.  
When their tempers clashed, sparks flew.

* * *

 

Achilles could be such an ass. A complete and utter ass. He had left in such a rush, his tunic was off one shoulder. That’s how pissed he was.

  
“Why doesn’t he just call me as he sees me…” he mumbled. It had hurt, for Achilles to dismiss him so easily.

  
Alex gurgled, big eyes watching him curiously. Tiny fingers reaching for his face.

  
"Oh my little love, I'm not angry at you," he told him taking and pressing a little kiss to them, " I could never be angry with you, ever. I love you too much. You're the most important person in the world to me."

  
Patroclus paused, Alex bobbled his head, curls moving with it. The tiny image of his lover, it became clear to him, Patroclus kissed his forehead. He had to keep them safe.  
They could fight side by side if Achilles would stop being so pigheaded. Gods, what a stubborn man he was.

* * *

 

Surprisingly Patroclus' hands betrayed none of his fury, instead they were steady calm. The comb ran through every tangle and snag with the utter most care. Achilles was almost afraid to break the tranquil air to ask if he was still angry.

  
The comb made a loud clatter. when it was set back onto the table. Achilles would have said something when he heard the opening of another box, then fingers moved back through his hair. From the motions he could tell; Patroclus was braiding it, pausing periodically.  
This continued for a while, and he watched Alex crawl around until he pushed himself on his leg wanting to be held. Still not a word had past his lover’s lips.

  
“There,” Patroclus said at last. Achilles touched at it, two thin braids starting at his temples the rest flowing free. The cool touch of metal told him Patroclus had put some clasps in his hair.

  
“Thank you, my love,” he said before biting at his lips, he had to apologize.

  
"I'm sorry."

  
"I'm sorry." They had apologized at the same time, Patroclus let him go first. Curious as to how he would do it.

  
"My love, I never meant to hurt you. I would be honored to have you fighting at my side; but I'm afraid for you, of the things that could happen to you," Patroclus heard the genuine truth in his voice.

  
" Achilles, you have nothing to fear. I'm capable of looking after myself. More than capable, I give you enough trouble as is. I promise you I will be fine."

  
Achilles sighed wearily, he didn’t get it. Just that short while he was on the battlefield, his nerves had been shot.

  
"Yes, I see how skilled you are, it’s just.” He paused before standing with Alex, " You are so precious to me, I can’t see you hurt even with something as minor as a scratch."

  
Patroclus wanted to argue with him further, but the pain in Achilles’ eyes spoke volumes. There would be another time to discuss this. If tonight went well Achilles could be home with for them for the winter. He wouldn’t have to fight, but doubted it would be so easy.

* * *

 

His brother was a fool of the highest order, the Trojans would never agree to something so asinine as a truce. Not when they had them at their most vulnerable. They were short an entire right wing of men, because his brother refused to have his precious bearer in danger.

His brother just had to stick his dick in one of the best warriors they had to Achilles, impregnating him. Agamemnon had though Achilles was an idiot for getting his own second with child. At least that child had a fight to him, wanting to fight with his husband. 

Menelaus however refused to budge on the issue, Diomedes was not to battle. He was not to direct or even draw up battle plans, nothing but rest. Diomedes was furious with him for not allowing him to lead, but how could he. Often he was too ill to even leave his bed.

  
So, here they were giving the Trojans the perfect advantage. They had no reason to agree to such a truce, not when they were trapped. Winter was upon them and men and supplies were limited.  
Nothing would stop the Trojans from taking an opening where they saw one.

* * *

 

While dressing for the banquet, he had an idea. One last bid to allow Achilles to let him return to the field.

  
A rematch, Achilles couldn't match.

  
Marksmanship.

  
His lover was a half God that much was true, but what Achilles lacked at times was patience. And with a bow, patience not skill was required.

  
Patience that he had in bounds.

* * *

  
The meeting was to take place under a tent part way between the Greeks' camps and the walls of Troy.

  
Patroclus had insisted on going with him, their earlier argument nearly forgotten. He said nearly because he felt tension. As if Patroclus was leading him into a false sense of security, like he did once when he had him leave the battlefield. Sometimes he hated how calculating he could be.  
On the other hand, they had gained good advantages due to his tactical mind. A truce between them in the Trojans. He was almost thankful for Menelaus knocking up Diomedes because maybe they could go home.

“ _Go home, don’t be foolish. You’re so close now, to go home because he asks you to. Are you that willing to throw everything away for him?_ ” strangely the voice sounded almost like his mother now. Ever pushing him towards his destiny, a destiny that he was growing weary of. He no longer cared for glory and godhood, what he wanted was to take a ship and sail home. So his father could meet and play with his grandchild.

  
A chance for Alexander to be spared from this war, for Patroclus to stop being so stressed.

* * *

 

Patroclus had no idea what to expect from meeting with the Trojans only that his stomach was tied in knots. Hector was supposed to be there.  
Achilles in the same space as Hector made him sick, because it was the constant ever pressing of the prophecy against them. More sand down the hourglass, time was running out.

  
Menelaus wanted him to sit with the Trojans, since he had picked up their language. So here he was with Achilles on the side of him and Menelaus on the other. Diomedes was too ill to attend, and it was probably best that he stay out of sight.  
Across from him was Hector, and the other Trojan nobles. Paris was again absent, hiding behind his older brother, what a coward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Achilles Patroclus is always up to something, but it is 99.9% always for your benefit and your child's.


	6. Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff notes: Shit is crazy, this chapter is crazy and kinda funny. Like IDK.  
> You guys can thank Netflix and Spotify for inspiration for this update. 
> 
> Love you guys. :) Enjoy.

Hector felt he should have more apprehension sitting across from the man destined to kill him. All he felt was peace and calmness. His wife, Andromeda had screamed at him terribly calling him a fool for agreeing to sit with the Greeks for a truce. Even Helen was in agreement, it spoke volumes of how much she hated her husband. Hated even the slightest hint of going back to him. If he was honest his brother was no prize himself, vain and cowardly.

He swore that before all the Gods as much as he loved his siblings. Paris made him wished he had been eaten by wolves instead of being found by a kindly shepherd for all the destruction he had brought to their land. Better him dead than the ruin of their kingdom, because even as he fought to protect their city, a part of him knew Troy was to fall. But if could help it, Troy would not fall today.

So if the price was him smiling and breaking bread with his would be killer so be it.

* * *

  
Achilles eyed the man in front of him, truly this man could be a match for him if the Gods had deemed it so. However he had done nothing to draw his ire, Prince Hector and he were merely fighting a war that neither of them wanted. Going through the motions of being enemies, fighting and retreating. It had become almost a game between children instead of a war for blood. For no land had been gained, and the only riches gained were taken were from Troy’s support cities.

* * *

 

Patroclus was sitting so stiff next to him, Achilles wanted to reach over and take his hand. There was no need to feel stressed. it wasn’t as if he and Hector had weapons. None of them did, but truth be told he could probably kill the man with his bare hands. He just used weapons to make people feel more at ease, Patroclus especially.

“Shall we began,” Menelaus said at last when the last of the meal had been cleared away.

Patroclus’ main reason for being here was to serve as a spy for what the Trojans said, in case what was being said was anything but the truth. And honestly he needed more wine, because he was bored to tears.  
Gods, whoever thought to make Odysseus the leader of this shit show needed a brutal beating... _ **Agamemnon**_. Because his oily voice was wearing on his nerves as they went back and forth, eventually he just started to tune him and this out. Achilles too appeared equally as bored, because his fingertips had started tracing patterns at his back. Nothing indecent, just patterns. Patroclus wanted to lean into his warm embrace and let this all sink away. More than anything he wanted to be home. Not their tent, but home. Pithia.

Hector it seemed to also have grown tired of the back and forth of talking among his nobles. All but letting his man go up against the slippery and sly Odysseus. Bickering children the lot of them. Patroclus rolled his eyes and drank a little more from his cup. Gods, would this never end?

Nestor had made disagreements to nearly every solution and Agamemnon agreed with him. Stupid, greedy, old fucks. Prince Hector was ready to empty Troy of all its gold if it meant they would leave. But no, they wanted to rape, burn, and pillage the city not having it given to them.

Patroclus felt sorry for him to know that his homeland was to face such destruction, and wondered why the Fates had put Achilles and he to be enemies. If anything it seemed as if they could become great friends. Gods, knows Achilles could use more of those, stubborn as he is. Then maybe they could go home, he missed Pithia. Missed the warm beaches, missed their little sea side room. He hadn’t even been this homesick when carrying Alexander, why now?

* * *

 

Throwing propriety to the wind, he let Achilles draw him further to his side. Resting his head on his shoulder, feeling drained. Between their duel this morning and their subsequent argument, and this negotiation he was tired, not to mention he would have to care and feed their babe when this finished, if it finished. It was a good thing Alex was mild tempered baby most of the time. Hopefully Briseis would have him bathed and put down. If not, he would do it. Alexander was his responsibility after all. Ah, he missed his little one.

* * *

 

Hector nearly spat out his wine, luckily he recovered just in time. While it was well known that the Greeks preferred the male form, this was too much. Prince Achilles was snuggling his lover at a negotiation for a truce showed how much he thought of this farce. The man however made him curious, darker than most of the Greeks appearing to be from Troy not Greece. Hector subtly motioned for his closest man, one of his captains.

  
“Who is the man besides Prince Achilles?” he kept his voice low not wanting to draw attention to himself.

  
“His prince consort, Patroclus.” his captain whispered back. Hector fought not to show surprise on his face.

  
That Patroclus? The ruthless carrier who slaughtered twenty men with Achilles’ child. The same one who sent so many of his men to Hades outmaneuvering them with battle strategies that favored the Greeks. It could not be. He was not expecting him to appear so… harmless.

  
Dark eyes met his, caught he looked away.

* * *

 

Patroclus had seen Hector eyeing him and Achilles, but he was tired. Too tired to sit up and leave Achilles’ warm embrace, it was obvious that the raids and fighting would continue as always. Menelaus next to him sighed, knowing his gesture for his pregnant lover had gone to naught.  This was merely a waste of time, he had wanted to believe in it. Believe it could work not just for winter but as a permanent solution. 

The war was to continue, regardless. Diomedes’ battalion could be put under another’s command and they could move on. Had anyone but him thought of that solution before this. He would voice it at the next meeting, which was sure to follow this disaster. Achilles took off his cloak to wrap around him. Grateful he wrapped it around him, the wind was starting to change. Autumn was ending. Winter was coming.

* * *

 

Just as he predicated, Agamemnon had called council. This time, he called it on the same night, a rare first. As before he sat in the front row, an up close encounter with madness. Achilles was impassive beside him. No doubt this mind twisting and turning at the outcome of whatever Odysseus was cooking up.

Patroclus both respected Odysseus’ intelligence, and at the same time was wary of it. He wouldn’t say afraid because that was ridiculous, but something about him gave this eerie feeling. Achilles called him a snake. Not that he wasn’t wrong, but still he could attempt to play nice with him. Of course Achilles was never one for playing well with others, take for example the meeting where he punched both him and Agamemnon in the face. Hilarious and well deserved, but still inappropriate. Snort, Gods that was a lie. He thought no such thing, until later much later.  
Patroclus was drawn back into reality when Odysseus decided to pull Achilles into the fray.

  
“Prince Achilles have you heard from your mother. Are the Gods still on our side?” Odysseus decided to drag him into the conversation. Patroclus too had shifted to hear his response.

  
“I have heard nothing from her, nor has she visited. So I assume something is preventing her from doing so,” Achilles lied. Patroclus relaxed at his side.  
Odysseus watched him a moment before turning back to the room at hand.

  
“Tonight’s negotiations have not gone as planned, but perhaps they is still some chance to salvage it.”

  
Patroclus was somewhat surprised at his statement because all throughout the negotiations, he had been agreeing with both Nestor and Agamemnon. Perhaps he had changed his tune due to Diomedes being present.

  
“I’m going to excuse myself, I need to see to Alex.” Patroclus whispered at his ear, he nodded.

  
“Goodnight,” he said kissing his cheek lightly.

  
Achilles sighed once he left, knowing that he was to be left with the madness. And from the gleam in Odysseus' dark eyes. It was to be nothing good.

* * *

 

Patroclus smiled at him before turning back to rocking Alex, their little one was not quite asleep but not quite awake. Achilles sat next to him, reaching to play with his fingers. Alex smiled a little in his half-awake state.

  
“Go to sleep, Alex. You need to rest to grow strong.” Achilles made a motion to take him and Patroclus gently passed him over. Patroclus kissed his forehead before undressing for bed. Achilles hummed softly to Alex, who still refused to sleep. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss his forehead, Alex wriggled a little.

  
“Hhm, be a good little prince and go to sleep,” he muttered adjusting him in his arms. Alex babbled a little bit as if protesting. However it seemed that every time he took another soft breath he was falling deeper into sleep. Finally his little chest rose and fell with the signs of sleep. Achilles decided to hold him a little longer before setting him in his crib.

When he held Alexander, he felt more peacefully, stable. As if their was still hope, that not all was lost. Gods, how would he tell Patroclus of what Agamemnon and Odysseus had planned. How he had been all but forced to agree with them. How Diomedes’ troops were to be added to their own. Temporally at least.

* * *

 

“Motherhood suits you.” Patroclus startled, pulled up his tunic for modesty. Alex fussed a little, but didn’t outright start bawling. Odysseus was at least polite enough to avert his eyes from his chest.

  
“Odysseus, what do I owe for this pleasant visit.” More like unpleasant visit. How had he gotten in, unnoticed. The Gods know Achilles had men shadowing him at almost all hours even after he had promised to stop.

  
“I only came to see the little prince,” he stated making his way over to them. Patroclus could barely contain the urge to bundle Alex as close as he could to his chest. Odysseus since Aulis made him uneasy. A person who could command the callous act of letting a young girl be slaughtered like cattle would unnerve any, even less allow them around children.

  
Odysseus arranged people like pawns on a board game that only he knew the outcome, that is what truly made him keep his distance. The less they interacted the better.

  
“Is he a doting father to your child?” Odysseus asked playing with Alex’s fingers. Gods, bless his baby because where any other child would have cried. Alex seemed to challenge the man in front of him, what a silly thought. He was only eight months old.

  
“But of course,” he said pulling Alex away from his reach.

  
“I figured, but merely wanted to hear it myself.”

  
“ Odysseus what do you want? I know you are not here merely to debate Achilles and I as parents. Nor here to see my son. So, I ask you again what is it you want?”  
Normally one would have offered him a drink or meal to show hospitality, but his hands were quite full at the moment. That and Patroclus felt very little hospitality at the moment.  
A slow sly grin worked itself way to his face.

  
“As you know Diomedes is expecting a child.”  
Patroclus inclined his head. Surely, he didn’t come to state what was all but an open secret at this point.

  
“Everyone knows, I’m sure the Trojans do as well.” Where was this going? Patroclus had an idea but already had a bad feeling about it.

  
“Hmm, I suppose that’s true, but that leaves the matter of his troops. As I’m sure Achilles has told you already.”

 

Never one to give Odysseus an edge, Patroclus played along.

  
“We have already spoken on the matter. I agree with it.”

  
“Good, then I see we are in agreement about Achilles leading them with your own?”

  
“ _Achilles, you bastard_ ,” he thought viciously. Always he was always left out of the fucking loop.

  
“Of course.” Patroclus could only grin with him cursing that he had walked into a trap.

  
Odysseus satisfied that he had ruined his day, played with Alex’s fingers a little more before departing.

* * *

 

Every time it seemed as if he wanted to broach the subject with his lover, something was always pulling him away from him. Patroclus was often attending duties in the medical tent, or with in camp with Phiniox supervising the winter supplies. When Achilles did find time, they were both spent with Alex snoozing in his crib besides them. His little cheeks rosy even in his sleep.

Sometimes, Achilles just marveled at how much he loved his son. How all of his little coos and gummy smiles held his heart. At the same time, guilt ate at him thinking about Alex’s older brother, the destiny he would face. The destiny that Alexander would possibly face, no he didn’t want to think about that. For now he only wanted to hold his little one for as long as he was able.

  
“Achilles,” Patroclus softly called to him just as he set Alex back in his crib.

  
“We should talk,” he finished with a yawn. Achilles agreed.

  
“In the morning. We will, I promise.” Satisfied, Patroclus bobbed his head slightly before falling back to sleep.

* * *

 

Morning came in a hazy awareness, with Patroclus already at the table. Breakfast on the table, Alex in his arms.

  
“Good morning,” Achilles greeted kissing his cheek. Patroclus leaned up a little. Alex’s sweet little face met his as he peered up over his shoulder. Achilles kissed his forehead.

  
“Good morning my loves.” Achilles saw it before Patroclus did, Alex upturning his mush onto him.

  
“Ack, no Alex not on me,” his love sighed at the mess.

  
“Why you naughty little babe, what do you have to say for yourself?” Patroclus asked Alex.

  
Who’s only response was, “Papa,” giggling, with his sticky hands reaching for his tunic.

  
Patroclus drew in a weary breath but gave in. Alexander was certainly clever, if he wasn’t offered what he wanted then he would find ways to get it.

  
“He got it from you,” Patroclus muttered sulkily. Achilles just grinned at him.

  
“No, he got his cunning from you. I would have thrown a tantrum, but he knows you won’t let him go hungry if he doesn’t want his mush. Which is why he continues to throw or spit it.”

  
Patroclus parted his lips as if to argue but instead said this, “ I’m trying to wean him, he is starting to nibble and I can feel the beginning of teeth.”

  
Achilles winced. Well, shit.

  
“Teething already?”

  
“Yes, already that and I want him to be used me not nursing him when I go back to the field.”

  
“I can get you a wetnurse if you would like, let them deal with Alex’s…” he trailed off at Patroclus’ expression.

  
“No, it’s just I would do it longer if it didn’t hurt so much. And I hardly ever get to spend enough time with him as is, and I’ll have even less when I go back.”

  
Achilles resisted the urge to sigh, their same old song and dance. Patroclus wasn’t going anywhere near the battlefield. He couldn’t lose him, not like this. Not with their son just months old. Achilles couldn’t deal with that. And he wouldn’t. Ever. By Hades he would put him on a ship with Alex before he even got near a battlefield again.

  
“Patroclus, you don’t have to go back. It isn’t expected from you, I would never take you from Alex.”

  
“No, Achilles I have to…”

  
“You don’t have to.”

  
“I don’t have to,” Patroclus parroted back, “Then tell me Achilles why I had to hear from Odysseus’ mouth instead of your own that you were assigned to lead Diomedes’ warriors with ours. Tell me why you tell me hardly anything when it concerns this war. I have to find out through others, I thought I was your equal in all things,” he finished sharply. It hurt how Achilles was hiding things from him as if he worried about his reaction.

  
Achilles was stunned for a moment, “ I was going to tell you, but every time I tried you were busy with either the medical tent or Alex. In fact I was planning to tell you this morning. Please believe me when I say that I would never intend to hide this from you.”

  
Alex wriggled a bit in his arms, Patroclus glanced down only to see him still contentedly suckling away.

  
“Why not last night?”

  
“I was tired. So were you.” Hmm.

  
Patroclus sighed, “ Then I’ll say my piece. I want a rematch from our duel the other day. I grow tired of this stand still between us, because we both know I will return to the field, it’s only a matter of when.”

  
Achilles’ lips parted to disagree, but Patroclus stopped him.

  
“Let me finish. We’ll have a match in marksmanship. If I win, I can go back, if I lose then I won’t bother you with this again.” Just as he suspected Patroclus had been leading him into a false sense of security. Fine then. Achilles would just have to make every effort to thwart him.

  
“Deal.”

  
Alexander had gotten his wickedness from somewhere and it wasn’t all just him.

* * *

 

**Thunk**

  
His arrow sunk firmly splitting his lover's into two parts. Achilles didn't appeared surprised in the least.  
Saying nothing only grabbing another arrow from his quiver. It seemed as if they were going to be at this for a while. Or at least until Achilles' patience and temper ran short. No matter he had time. All the time in the world.

Looking at the tree, it was a mess of split arrows and strays. With both of their quivers down to but a few arrows. Patroclus decided it was time to move to moving targets.  
Which he wondered how well that would go. His lover patience was already wearing thin. It shouldn’t be long now. Not long at all.

  
“Damn this to Hades.” Patroclus inclined his head in that direction. Huh, that had been quicker than expected.

  
Oh well, the one with the most kills was the winner. And they would have dried meat for the winter, it was killing two birds with one stone. Patroclus notched his arrow and let it fly. They would meet again at sunset.

* * *

  
Presenting him his neatly tied bundle of hares, only one more than his. Achilles sunk to his knees, fingers resting his waist.

  
“Patroclus, I will give you everything but this. I cannot grant this, I’m sorry.” At this point, he couldn’t find it in him to be disappointed, he had known Achilles would break his promise. This was the one thing he would not give him no matter how he schemed, seduced, or threw tantrums.

  
“Why?” was all he could ask. Achilles looked up at him through tears.

  
“When you first went to the battlefield, I was terrified for you. All I could feel was a nagging sense that you aren’t meant to be anywhere near a battlefield. That one instance had been tempting the Fates. I feel that I could lose you if you go back. Alexander needs you,” and quieter, “I need you.”

  
Patroclus remembered saying Achilles something similar when he was fading out of consciousness after he gave birth. Patroclus couldn’t even find the heart to be angry at him, not when he seemed so distressed already.

  
“Very well I will abstain from the battlefield,” he said raking his fingers through his lover’s curls, “for now.”

  
Achilles sighed in relief against him, “Thank you, my most beloved.”

  
“I suppose you will be keeping me barefoot and pregnant as well,” he teased, “ like a good little husband.”

  
Achilles snorted rising, “Never, I respect you too much to do such a thing to you again.” Patroclus laughed.

  
“I’m only joking, the men seemed to think it will be a reality soon,” he said rubbing at his stomach, “that I’m pregnant with your twins.”

  
He stopped when he saw how pale his love had gone. “You’re not, really?” vaguely gesturing to his belly.

 

This time he snorted, “No, I drink my tea every morning before I do anything.”

  
“Including letting you anywhere near me,” he said, waving his hand over his body with a flourish. Achilles cracked up at that.

  
“I’m glad,” Achilles said, color returning to his cheeks.

  
“Come with me I have something to show you,” Achilles said leading him away from the arrows and leaving their bows behind.

* * *

  
What Achilles wanted to show him was an entire battalion of troops to train and command at his leisure. Patroclus turned to him shock. Watching the soldiers form their ranks, his ranks now. Half of the Myrmidon army was to follow his lead.

  
“Achilles, how can I have them respect me if I myself am have hardly been on the field?” he whispered.

  
His lover only chuckled quietly, “ Trust me, they are grateful for you.” Patroclus would be able to give them the attention and patience he lacked without all his “ harsh training” or so he heard.

  
“Does it please you?” he had to know. Patroclus could have his experience of the battle all without the dangers, and he would no longer have to deal with the whining of his men.

  
“It does.” Patroclus had thought him thoughtful, at the same time he wondered if this was merely a distraction. A way for Achilles to keep him content without argument, because surely their men would rather Achilles train them.  
Agamemnon had put Diomedes' troops under him, and he had to train them properly.

* * *

 

Praise the Gods, their torment was to end. Achilles had placed them under command of his consort.  
They could have cried from the pure joy, no more training well before the Sun rose. While Achilles trained with them, he liked to push the limits of their stamina. He was a demigod, few could match him. Not even his consort, though he tried bless him. Theo almost felt sorry for Diomedes’ men. Their prince while an excellent leader was a tyrant when it came to training.

* * *

 

Diomedes prayed to every God he could think of to end this torment. Patroclus had made pregnancy seem so easy and graceful. Just glowing with health, driving everyone, especially his lover mad. Labor had been effortless for him as he delivered quickly and was back on his feet in mere days. Despite falling ill with a small fever.  
In truth it was Hades, pure and simple. He deeply regretted letting Menelaus stick his dick in him. While it had felt so good, the aftermath not so much.  
When he had caught Menelaus’ attention from him slipping, told him of his status. He still wondered why, jealousy perhaps? Patroclus’ doe eyes were no threat, but his swelling belly had been, making Menelaus melancholy at the thought of a son.

Gods, his lover was thrilled when he had told him about their child. Diomedes had hardly ever seen him so happy, and for the moment his dark eyes were devoted to him and him alone.

Menelaus seemed so passionate with him, he wanted to say he loved him. Truly, but he wasn’t. They were only passing the time with each other, Menelaus had gone to war to reclaim his wife. Diomedes was here for glory. After this they would go their separate ways, he back to his country with a son, since he knew Menelaus would never claim his child. Menelaus had enough bastards, his son deserves better.

His wife had borne him no children and would simply have to deal with his indiscretions. She should count herself lucky that he was not bringing home a concubine. Still might, just to spite the harpy.

If only he could pick his damned head up from this bucket. Gods above, this was his punishment for mocking Patroclus.

Patroclus could mock him if he wished, for he deserved it. He and Achilles were young and newly married, of course they were taken with each other. In spite of the babe between them, their passions had yet to cool. He had no right to tease them. They way they looked at one another, one could swear they had been made for each other. Patroclus was the gentle balance to Achilles’ recklessness, and Achilles answered to none except his Patroclus. Which is why he is glad his light hearted ribbing had not gotten him punched like Agamemnon and his friend.  
His humor toed the line of funny yet vulgar. Patroclus had told him as much, how his humor brightened the dullness of the meetings.

Apparently, not enough if Patroclus had taken to teasing Achilles while in his lap. It had been hard to miss the erection Achilles had been sporting, leaving. All while seven months pregnant. How could he entrance Menelaus like so. Perhaps he should ask Patroclus the next time he saw him.

  
“ _Oh, Gods above_ ,” he thought as another wave of nausea passed, “ _Curse you Menelaus.”_

* * *

 

Patroclus hadn’t expected to see Diomedes again so soon. Briseis had left when she had seen him, taking Alex with her. His little babe adored her, and it would give them more time to talk. He was sure that Diomedes had plenty of questions, as he did. Hera, he looked terrible. First, get him settled, then see what he needed help with.

  
“Would you like a drink?,” he asked him. Diomedes shook his head.

  
“I’m fine, thank you,” he said, settling himself into the couch. Diomedes still looked a little green so he offered him a pail, just in case.

  
“Thank you,” he muttered. Gods this was embarrassing, but Patroclus was the only other carrier he knew. There was probably more among them, but few wanted to be ridiculed for their status. None would dare bash him or Patroclus due to their lovers’ influence, but he could feel Menelaus’ interest waning. After all he had expected that, but no matter.

 

Patroclus seemed to be comfortable remaining at camp raising Achilles’ son, but he himself wasn’t sure if he wanted to do the same. The battlefield is where he belonged not mothering a babe. There were plenty of women in camp to look after his son if needed.

The Myrmidons worshiped their prince and his lovely consort. For a consort, Patroclus wore no golden ornaments, only a thin band of green around one of his wrists. When he asked him where he had gotten it. He lit up.

“I picked it out of a chest, Achilles gifted to me. It matches his eyes perfectly and comes from the East.” The blush that took his cheeks, made his own cheeks flush. Patroclus held an innocence to him that must have driven Achilles mad. Perhaps that is why everyone was drawn to him to a degree, even himself. Antiochus held a small crush on him for saving his life, but would never admit it fearing Achilles. Honestly he didn’t blame Achilles, if he had such a lovely person, by his side. He would never let him go.

Diomedes found Patroclus holding a small cloth out to him, not even realized tears had been falling.

  
“It’s alright to cry. I found myself doing it often during pregnancy, especially when I was hiding it from Achilles,” Patroclus stated gently.

  
Wiping at his eyes, a thought passed his mind, " _Surely he wasn’t crying over Menelaus’ affection for him, because that was pathetic. Why would Menelaus stay with him when the World’s Most Beautiful Woman waited for him behind the walls of Troy?_ "

  
“It’s alright to cry, it’s natural. Let it out, I won’t judge you,” Patroclus soothed and he did. Crying for what felt like hours. When he had no tears left, Patroclus offered him a cup of water. A cool flavor hit his tongue. What the?

  
“Mint, to help ease your nausea and calm your nerves.” Patroclus added as he sipped at it. He bobbed his head in gratitude.

  
“You hid your pregnancy from your husband? Why?” When he had calmed down he was still curious about that snippet.

  
“ I had no choice, his mother caused me to miscarry my first,” Patroclus paused biting his lip, “And I was fearful of his reaction. For in my home country, carriers are unnatural. But Achilles’-our people worship them, so I suppose I’m lucky.”

  
Diomedes felt even worse for making fun of him, he hadn’t even known that Patroclus had once experienced such hardship. Miscarriage, that made him fearful subtly wrapping his arms around his belly. He was hardly showing, but he wanted to offer his child as much protection as he could. A warm hand rested at his crossed arms.

  
“ As I told you before you shouldn’t worry, you’re hips are wide enough. Having your child should be a breeze.”

A tiny smirk lit up Patroclus’ face, “Now what do you truly wish to ask me. I’m sure your other questions are not very pregnancy related.” He, himself had even asked a few questions to Automedon just not so explicitly as he was still so young.  
Diomedes swallowed, how had he gone from innocent to lecherous in a few minutes.

“You’re wondering how I kept Achilles in my bed until I had our child,” Patroclus was only guessing. He had no idea if that is Diomedes had come here for, but it had been his favorite subject in Achilles’ ear shot. Or so his husband had told him.

“Yes, how did you know?” Patroclus fought to keep his surprise from showing. Trying to rack his brain, how he had kept Achilles in bed, it hadn’t been hard. Really. Gods just thinking about it made him wish Achilles was back from training already. Alex was with Briseis for the moment. They could have their “training session.”

  
“ I seduced him,” was Patroclus’ simple answer. He fought to keep his jaw from dropping.That was it, he made it seem so simple.

  
“With the help of the Goddess Aphrodite,” he continued. Okay, that made more sense.

  
“With aphrodisiacs and rituals?” he questioned. Patroclus shook his head.

  
“No, I mean the goddess appeared to me and helped me seduce him back into my bed. Apparently we are her most devoted followers, her most passionate lovers.” Hera, Diomedes’ eyes were so wide, he wasn’t going to laugh. For he had once been in his place, vulnerable, and afraid.

  
“She even gifted us this tub. Even if the water is dirtied, it will return to being pure and streaming moments later,” Patroclus explained, gesturing to it. Diomedes at times forgot that he was the consort to a demigod prone to mingling with Gods and such. But his mother-in-law was a nasty piece of work for what she had attempted

.  
“Achilles made a vow, when I finally told him of my pregnancy to not sleep with me until I had our child. He broke it a week later.” Patroclus seemed smug at the thought.

  
“So, it was you and Aphrodite whom had him break it,” Patroclus tilted his head at him.

  
“Maybe..,” nibbling at his bottom lip, turning it even redder. It was no wonder Achilles was so jealous, if this is what he came home to.

  
“He had already felt lust for me before she came, it’s just I had failed to seduce him properly. I had to dominate him,” he said this so casually.  
Diomedes nearly choked on his water.

* * *

 

Patroclus had welcomed him back stripping him off both his armor and tunic. He seemed too lost to even mind the sweat coating him, if anything made him wilder. Sucking marks up his neck, stripping his own tunic off. Drawing them towards their bed, until the back of the knees hit the side of it.   
“Achilles,” he panted quietly into his neck, “can I?”

  
“Please,” he returned. Patroclus didn’t hesitant slicking up his fingers one by one. The first felt strange and the second had him wriggling at little.

  
Patroclus was sure in his search, and a moment found exactly what he had been looking for. Achilles arched up and tried not to whine.

  
“ ‘chilles you feel so good,” he slurred against his neck. Achilles fought the urge flip them, fucking Hades Patroclus was absolutely the worst. Taunting and teasing him for what felt like hours, until he was all but begging. But Gods.

* * *

 

Patroclus drew small circles around his chest, seeming quieter than usual.

  
“What's the matter, love?” he asked. Dragging his hand so that their fingers intertwined.

  
“Hm, nothing,” resuming his circles.

  
Achilles sat up a little. Something was bothering him, but what?

  
“ Diomedes visited me today. He seemed on the verge of heartbreak.”

  
Achilles resisted the urge to groan, by the Gods he hated Patroclus’ new bad habit. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of being thoroughly fucked out, not deal with his husband’s new fondness for gossiping.

  
Achilles had seen the end of Menelaus and Diomedes’ relationship coming for a while. Menelaus was biding his time until his wife returned. Regardless of the whispers that Menelaus was going to kill her when he got her back. If he was going to kill her what was the point of this war?

  
Diomedes should have known better now. Even worse Diomedes would be out of the field for sometime due to his condition and the time required afterwards to heal.  
“Patroclus, it isn't your place to worry about such a thing.”

  
“I know that, but I was once in his place. Afraid with no one to turn to. I wanted to at least offer him what comfort and kindness I can provide.” Achilles felt vaguely guilty, Patroclus was just being kind to Diomedes. Through he had little reason to, was anyway. His lover was often too kind at times.

  
“Menelaus has all but abandoned him, poor thing,” Patroclus sighed at his collarbone.

  
This time he really groaned, before flipping Patroclus onto his back. Looming over him, reaching for his cock. His favorite way of shutting him up.

  
“Diomedes will be fine, something tells me, they are only having a spat.” Achilles breathed,teasing his neck with the threat of teeth.

  
“Just fine."

* * *

 

The weather was still warm enough, but with Troy’s weather few knew when it would change. Achilles was free for now while negotiations with the Trojans continued. Or until Agamemnon grew tired of Menelaus trying to work on a truce and called for the raids once more. Any day now, and the thought made him anxious but what could he do.

  
“Alex, come here,” his lover called breaking him from thoughts.

  
Patroclus chuckled watching Achilles trying and failing to catch their little son, who giggled when he got away once again. Once Alexander learned to stabilize himself, he had become accustomed to avoiding their arms, more interested in exploring the world around him.

  
Achilles pushed his hair out his hair with a huff. Alex continued to run and laugh. Occasionally, falling on his bottom before Achilles scooped him up and off he went again.  
Patroclus was merely content to count his blessings of having both his lover and child in good health.

  
Often he was haunted by what could have been, placing a hand on his belly. The child that could have been, had… no.

  
“Pa~pa,” was his only warning before Alex ran into his lap. Achilles too came over and flopped at his side.

  
Achilles kissed his cheek and his son pulled at his tunic. There was no place for dark thoughts today. It was a beautiful day, which he would spend here in the present.

  
“Hungry, my love?” he questioned and Alex’s chubby fingers pulled all the most insistently.

  
“Ya,” he babbled. Undoing his shoulder, he scooped him up and cradled him at his chest.

  
While his son found a comfortable position, Achilles leaned against his shoulder. Making faces at their son. If he disturbed this feeding, he was going to kill him. It was hard enough to keep Alex from fidgeting during it. Which led to him nibbling because he was bored, which hurt. However, Achilles seemed to live for antagonizing him when he was nursing Alex. Knowing he was limited from moving.

  
“Achilles,” he hissed at him through gritted teeth, “stop.” A muffled laugh rose from his shoulder. He thought he was funny. Ass.

  
“Sorry my love, it’s just you seem as if you are about to bite my head off.” Was it such a crime that he loved to see Patroclus being so maternal towards their child?

  
“Tempted, very tempted,” he muttered, turning his attention back to Alex who had predictably lost interest of eating. Wonderful, just wonderful. Just before he could enact his revenge against his cheeky lover.

  
His name was called, “Patroclus.... Prince Patroclus.” Patroclus turned to see a man running towards them, Achilles moved to his dagger, but he held his wrist.

  
“Wait,” he whispered, “ he isn’t an enemy.” As the man drew closer, recognized him as a man from Menelaus’ camp. Whom he had once treated him for an infection.

  
The soldier panted a little more, “King Menelaus summoned you. If you could please come?" Patroclus raised an eyebrow, why would?- oh that’s right.

  
He nodded before finding that the messenger still hadn’t moved. Why was everyone so bent on wrecking his peace? All he wanted was to feed his child in peace because soon Alex was to be weaned from him. A thought that brought him both relief and dread.

“If you could please follow me, he insisted I wait for you to.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, everyone knew where Menelaus’ camp was located, there was no need for this.  
“I’ll go, when I have finished feeding my child,” he told him patiently, “ I assume this isn’t an emergency.” The man glanced down and saw his tunic was loose and nested against him was Prince Alexander.

  
“Oh, my apologizes, I hadn’t realized,” he rambled, trying to his focus on his face all while feeling the heat of Prince Achilles’ hot glare. Staring at his consort’s breasts was enough for him to lose beloved body parts.

  
“Tell Menelaus, he’ll come when he is finished there is no need to wait here,” Achilles sharp green eyes offered a threat of bodily harm if he didn’t stop  
“ _ **Unless you have other reasons for remaining**_?," enunciating every word with a threat.

  
“No, your highnesses. I’ll take my leave now,” the man bowed, retreating quickly.

  
Patroclus snickered as he left, “ I suppose you have your uses. But you still will face my wrath later.” Achilles kissed his cheek.

  
“I welcome it. He had no right to ogle you like that,” he muttered against him, making another face at Alex.

  
“ _Like you do_ ”, he thought. But a lover’s gaze was different.

  
Alex pawed at his other nipple, he switched him.

  
“Greedy little thing,” he giggled, kissing his golden curls.

  
Well, at least his baby was happy. His heart.

* * *

 

Achilles had taken Alex off to play while he made the journey to the main camp. Pissed that he had been ripped away precious bonding with his child.  
Until Patroclus was ushered into Menelaus’ tent, and saw Diomedes in bed. His skin was as pale as a sheet, his head in so deep in a bucket. Good Gods.

Anger forgotten, Patroclus rushed to his side.

  
Patroclus looked to his Menelaus, “How long has he been vomiting?”

  
The man looked nervous, “ A few moments, this is why I called you. Can you make him stop?”

  
Patroclus resisted the urge to smack him, call a healer like Machon not him. Machon had delivered more babies than he had. “Get me some water, a mortar and pestle, and some mint. It will ease his nausea,” he ordered. This pregnancy had been awful on Diomedes. Patroclus felt nothing but pity for him as the stress on his body was no good for him or the baby.  
Menelaus surprising went himself to gather the supplies, whatever. He was partly responsible for all of this.

  
Patroclus sat at Diomedes’ side running a cold cloth across his neck. It would hopefully stabilize things while he waited. Poor thing.

 

When Diomedes’ nausea had subsided, he fell asleep comfortably on his side. Patroclus had pushed the bucket next to him, just in case.  
Menelaus looked somber next to him.

  
“He is always sick, I have no idea what to do or how to make him comfortable. I apologize for pulling you from your own family, but I was desperate.”

  
Patroclus shook his head, “ You did what you thought was best and I do have some knowledge of how to relieve some of the more unpleasant side effects of pregnancy.”

  
Menelaus grasped his hands suddenly, “Patroclus I hate to ask this of you, but would you possible deliver our child?”  
Patroclus froze, he had helped Machon deliver a few of the babies born in the camps. But would never presumed to know more about childbirth, as he had only been spared because Elthieyia had been by his side with Achilles keeping him grounded.  
However this man looked so hopeful for his answer, he nodded.

  
“I will be happy to help you in any way I can.” Patroclus just hoped that when the time came, Machon would be there too. Of course Machon was often busy and could hardly come for every birth.

  
Satisfied with his answer, he was dismissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patroclus: being SHADY.  
> Hector: SHOOKTH.  
> Achilles: isn't feeling any type of way. JK he is feeling all types of ways.  
> Alex: adorable muffin that must be protected at all cost. Also loves food tbh me too.  
> Odysseus: I swear to God, just stay in your lane.  
> Agamemnon: BITch  
> Thetis: not even here, but also a BITch  
> Diomedes: Regrets everything  
> Menelaus: tries hard and is stressed


	7. Gods and Monster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look an update. Might be a while before the next one but I promise it's worth it.
> 
> I would just like to say thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, bookmarked, etc. Love you guys. Enjoy :)

Menelaus had grown weary of war, weary of this back and forth. Day in and day out. Blood coating his hands and clothes, stains that wouldn’t come out no matter how he tried.

They were fighting for gold and a woman. A woman he wasn’t sure he even wanted anymore. Helen in all the years they had been together had never bore him a son only a useless daughter. Hermione while a beauty was only a pale imitation of her mother. Mistresses and slave girls had given him children but they were worthless. Lowly.

  
Then came the miracle of Diomedes, a royal carrier much the same as Patroclus young and very fertile. They had only lain together a few times when he announced he was with child. A son, finally.  
Lately he could not tell where his affection for Diomedes began or where they ended. He was overjoyed about his pregnancy, but beyond that was at a loss of what to do with him.

Menelaus would take him for a concubine had Diomedes not been married as well. Even if Diomedes ended his marriage, he could never annul his marriage to Helen. They could never be together. His brother wouldn’t allow it. The most he could offer him was that he would claim their son. Something his pride wouldn’t allow. Already he asked too much of him asking him to rest and place his troops in the hands of reckless Achilles. This would be the final thing he would ask of him.

* * *

 

Gossip ran through the camps with such quickness that Diomedes could only grin and bear it. Damn him, damn him to Hades for disgracing him as such, Gods he had been such a fool.  
Then that man had the nerve to ask him if he would accept the claiming of their child, he had firmly refused. His child was to return to Argos with him and would be raised as a prince not treated as poorly as Menelaus’ other children.

What in Aphodite’s name had caused him to sleep with him in the first place. What had he seen in such a weak willed man. A coward, a spineless coward. Cowed by his older brother into submission. This war was no longer about Helen it was purely to satisfy Agamemnon’s ego.

  
Oh right jealousy, he had been enraged by Menelaus’ attention towards Patroclus. Who for the Gods’ sake had been with a child and married to another at the time. Now he knew that Menelaus had only been interested in him for his fertility and nothing more. And why shouldn’t he be jealous of Patroclus who held Achilles’ heart so firmly in his grasp. They held such a love for one another that one couldn’t help but feel inadequate in the face of it.

  
Well, he had gotten his wish if only for a moment for Menelaus to look at him and only him, but it wasn’t enough. Gods he felt so bitter as if his heart had been poisoned.

  
No, he needed to calm down such stress would only bring ill effects on his health. He needed to be healthy to bear this child and the sooner he did that. The sooner he could return to the battlefield. Placing his hand at his belly could he endure another five months of this? Was he suited to be a mother? Because the Gods know he was not gentle or sweet like other carriers he was suited to command troops not mother a child. May the Gods help his child, he would be an awful mother.

* * *

 

“Your Highness, someone is here to see you. Should allow them in?” Automedon asked, parting the flaps slightly. Patroclus paused playing with Alex for a moment. He whined a bit his little one had been quite fussy today.

  
“Papa,” he cooed awaiting his attention once more.

  
Patroclus smoothed back his hair, “I’m here, love.”

  
“Who is it?” Because the Gods know if he has to deal with Odysseus and his fussy child, he was going to lose it.

  
“Just let me through,” a familiar voice said before the flaps were pushed all the way, Automedon was all but shoved to the side. Diomedes, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  
“Diomedes, I hadn't expected to see you up on your feet so soon. I hope you are feeling much better,” he said as the other man plopped down in front of him.

 

“ I’m-,” he stopped to peer at the chubby baby on Patroclus’ lap reaching for his hair. It had been months since the child’s naming ceremony, and in that short time he was already so big.

  
“He’s a handsome child,” Diomedes said instead. And that was the truth he was a very pretty baby with his fluffy blond curls, bright green eyes, and rosy cheeks. Patroclus laughed a bit at his praise.

  
“Thank you, he takes more after Achilles than he does me.”

  
Diomedes had to disagree, there were a few things that the prince had inherited from Patroclus. The dimples that showed when he grinned were the same. He wondered if his child would take more after him or his Menelaus. Gods, he hoped not that nose was horrendous. Red hair wouldn’t be so terrible, it would make him an even more fearsome warrior. His facial expression must have changed as Patroclus was reached over to place a hand on his forehead.

  
“Is something the matter? Are you feeling unwell?”

  
“No, I’m fine…” Was he really? Was he ready to be a mother? Patroclus seemed to know what he was doing, a natural. He on the other hand felt inadequate.

  
“You aren’t or else you wouldn’t have come. Is your stomach upset again?”

  
“No.” He drank Patroclus’ concoction of mint and water nearly hourly to keep nausea at bay.

  
“Do you feel weak in anyway?” Patroclus queried again, something was bothering him but it wasn’t physical. Diomedes only came to him when he seemed to be upset or bothered. It seems as if he was the only person he trusted at the moment.

  
“No, I’m just not sure if I’m suited for this. If I made the right decision...” he looked up to see Patroclus look thoughtfully at his child. The prince beamed at his mother again reaching for his curls. Could he hope to care for someone that small and fragile?

  
“I thought the same, but loving him is so easy. I knew that the moment I held him, he would hold my heart forevermore. There are days I wonder if I’m making the right decisions for him, if...  
I’m doing my best.”

  
Patroclus looked up at him at last, “I’m not saying it will be easy, but just know that you won’t be alone.”

  
He felt tears come again, Gods was he going to cry over every little thing.

  
“Thank you.”

  
“Papa, play,” Alexander uttered wanting to be put down.

  
“Of course my love.” Patroclus said, taking a moment to set him down. To Diomedes’ get horror and surprise, the baby toddlered right over to him. Tiny hands finding purchase at his leg, wanting to be picked up. He was bewildered as what to do, he looked to Patroclus in vain only to get a smile in return.

  
“It’s alright you can pick him up, I’ll say I’m surprised he usually doesn’t just go to anyone.” Diomedes peered down at the child, and an instinct he didn’t even know he had compelled him to pick him up. Once in his lap the child’s small hand went to rest at his belly, curiously glanced up at him. Not sure what to say, he again looked to Patroclus for help. Once again he was met with a smile.

  
“He won’t bite,” he said then thought for a moment, perhaps he should take him back. His chest was certainly proof that he did indeed bite. Before he could though, it seemed as if his son was not the only one who was fond. Diomedes seemed more at ease, even when Alex’s hand went for his hair. Gods be merciful Achilles was going to get an earful when he returned, encouraging his habits still. However his son was amazing for already showing so much kindness to others.

* * *

 

Achilles wasn’t sure what to make of the scene he came home to. Diomedes holding his son at his table with Briseis and Patroclus setting the table. Briseis and Automedon also seemed to be confused by this turn of events.

  
“You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you would like?” Patroclus offered. Briseis swiftly departed the moment the last dish was placed down. Automedon only stayed long enough to take his armor.  
“I think I have imposed long enough on your hospitality, but I appreciate the offer,” he said passing Alexander back to Patroclus, struggling to rise. At four months he should be on bedrest, not up and walking about. Stubborn man, pride was no reason to endanger your health.

  
Achilles took pity on him, helping him sit again “Please join us, it is no hardship.” His love was right Diomedes was facing enough hardship already, and if Patroclus had forgiven him then the past was the past. Diomedes still looked a little uncomfortable, so he changed the subject to something he was more familiar with.  
“Besides, I need to speak with you about your troops.” On the topic of war, he brightened.

After dinner was cleared away, Patroclus excused himself briefly to put Alex to bed.

  
“They aren’t giving you trouble, I hope.” Achilles withheld a snort, they were as stubborn as could be, it didn’t matter if he was Aristos Achaion, they were loyal to their king only.

  
“ I wish I could say they aren’t, but they miss their true leader. I can’t fault them for their loyalty. Though I wonder why I was chosen to lead them instead of another,” Achilles fixed his sharp eyes on him. After all Menelaus could have taken the troops himself. Anyone of Agamemnon’s lackeys really. So why him? Achilles already had an idea, but wanted merely to confirm his intuition. That they were really up to no good.

  
Diomedes fell silent at that, before his lips parted once more. How could he phrase this.

  
“Odysseus asked me to allow you to. It would be something the Trojans wouldn’t expect.” Since the news of his pregnancy had spread, they hadn’t expected them to regroup instead of surrendering.

  
“Hmm, well if he thought it up then it has some backing with Agamemnon and the others. I suppose.” Achilles said this casually, but his eyes were still sharp. Nervously, he fiddled with his cup hoping Patroclus would return from behind the screen.

  
“Yes, he also approved,” he conceded at last. There was no reason to try to conceal this. Achilles had already seen through of the king’s plots to keep him in line.

  
“I see,” was all the prince said on that matter. Diomedes breathed a small sigh of relief, that had been intense. Agamemnon and Odysseus had no idea what kind of monster they were poking at. They sought to control him as if he was merely a child but he held the blood of Gods in his veins. He wasn’t to be trifled with.

  
“I pray your health has been in good standing?” Achilles asked, refilling his cup. Diomedes went to refuse the wine before seeing it was only water.

  
“It could be better.” The prince gave him a knowing look.

  
“It’ll pass with rest. Which you should be doing, you’re in no state to be walking around. Your ankles are swelling that isn’t a good sign for your health or your child’s.” One moment he had been interrogated, the next scolded for not resting enough. The thought almost made him laugh. Perhaps he misjudged him, Achilles had his moments of kindness. They both had been incredibly kind to him.

  
“I should go, it has grown late,” Diomedes made a movement to stand again but this time he found a warm hand helping him up.

  
“I’ll escort you back,” Achilles said with a tone that left no room for argument.

  
“I can make it back on my own, but I thank you. Thank you both for your hospitality,” he said again.

  
“Diomedes don’t be stubborn. It isn’t safe for you to walk alone, especially in your condition.”

  
“Achilles,” Patroclus said in equal parts pleading and annoyance. He was saved. At his consort’s voice the great Achilles was cowed. Pff, so it was true whatever Patroclus said Achilles was at his beck and call. All the more reason to feel even worse, of course he loves him. He would do anything for him, Diomedes blinked back tears. Again with this, this feeling of inadequacy.

  
“I apologize for him, he means well he just has a strange way of showing it,” as he said this cast a withering look at his husband.

  
“But are you truly well enough? Please allow us to escort you back.”

  
“I’m fine, but thank you both for your concerns and hospitality. I will be fine I made the journey here, I can return alone.”

  
The young couple seemed to be having an unspoken discussion with their eyes, before they reluctantly nodded.

  
Patroclus made once last attempt, but he gently turned it down.

  
The last thing he wanted was to be pitied and coddled. Even worse, he didn’t want they to see his tears.

* * *

  
He had been wrong unmistakably wrong Diomedes and Menelaus it seems were through. If Diomedes’ frequent visits to his lover where anything to go by. Patroclus had fretted endlessly after he left, fearing something terrible had happened to him. Diomedes must have known this because he had sent a messenger assuring them of his safe return.

  
“Menelaus is too cruel. How could he do that to him then callously abandon him?” Patroclus sighed against his chest. Telling all that Diomedes had told him. Good Gods, now he felt terrible for interrogating him.

  
“I mean just the other day, the man asked me to deliver his son and the next Diomedes is here because the king pays him no attention. What is the point of forming a truce with the Trojans if he continues to treat him like that. I mean do you see his ankles, they were practically purple! All of this stress isn’t good for his body.” Achilles let his lover rant out his frustration on behalf of Diomedes. Patroclus’ heart was so good that he got upset at the mistreatment of others. 

Although, even he had felt a protective streak flash through him at his treatment. Patroclus’ own struggles with pregnancy fresh in his mind, how close he had come to miscarriage. And for Menelaus to simply discard him as if it was of no consequence didn’t sit right with him. In fact it pissed him off. Diomedes was a great king and respected warrior, he had done nothing to deserve such treatment. The House of Atreus was just graceless.

* * *

 

“ **Odysseus are you sure this is how you wish to proceed with this**?,” she asked.

  
“Yes, my lady. I’m sure.”

  
“ **The Gods are not pleased with how things have occurred, even more they worry for what has changed. Do you still wish to go through with this?”**

  
“I’m sure, I will do whatever I must for this war to end quicker even at this cost. Penelope and my son are waiting for me, I can not afford to fail them.”

  
“ **Then I will assist you where I can.** ”

  
“Thank you Goddess, I’m truly blessed by your favor.” Odysseus said bowing slightly. Gray-eyed Athena disappeared in a soft mist, and he was left alone again.

* * *

 

Winter here on the Anatolian shore was much milder than the ones he had experienced as a child, but still just as deadly. Instead of snow, they got rain and chills that settled into the camps for days on end. The weather changing as often as the tides, one day it was sunny and fair, the next bitterly cold. Hence why so many were sick, including their baby.

The day Agamemnon called for the raids on Trojan cities again was the same day Alex fell ill with another fever. He had taken the Trojan’s good gesture and spit on it. They were outnumbered and with few supplies were wholly unprepared for this winter.  
  
Nonetheless, ill child or not Achilles and their troops were set to raid at dawn. Even in this weather he wouldn’t seek to let their troops rest. May the Gods strike him down for his arrogance and greed.

While Achilles battled Trojans during the day, he fought to keep their child alive. Alexander coughed often then wheezed trying to breathe, cheeks flushed with fever. His poor baby.

At night he and Achilles both sat up rubbing his back to ease his discomfort; mopping his brow, feeding him honey to ease his little throat; with Achilles humming lullabies to calm him. Their little one spit up everything even breast milk, keeping nothing down so he cried every night from either hunger or pain. They were both at a loss as what to do. Patroclus prayed each night that his baby wouldn’t die. This would be a blow from which he would never recover.

  
When his fever broke; they sacrificed to every God they could, even those of the enemy. Their baby had lived.

* * *

 

Alexander had gotten sick, he had gotten so sick from what Achilles assumed was a chill. Fear ran through him, as he and Patroclus sat up night after night. Fear that their child would die.  
When Alex had been born, Achilles thought he would be more like him. Never in his life had he had a cold or any type of illness, but Patroclus and Alex did. They were vulnerable to all the things, he couldn’t fight because they were mortal.

  
All it would take would be another chill or one outbreak and they could fall ill. Then he would never see them again. Then he sneezed, Patroclus looked up holding out part of the blanket to welcome him in.

  
"Love, come to bed." Alex was asleep at his chest even if he was recovering, Patroclus wanted him close. They both did.

  
“I’ll make him sick again,” he didn’t trust himself around their child, that one sneeze could kill him. 

  
Patroclus continued to hold it up, "Achilles, come rest, neither of us has slept since Alex fell ill. If you continue like that you will fall ill." Finally, he gave in and settled next to him letting him brush his fingers against his forehead. Gods he was tired.

  
"No fever," Patroclus commented.

  
"Uh huh," he muttered tired. He drew Patroclus close, frowning a bit Patroclus himself was a little warm to the touch. Could he be the next one to fall ill? When Patroclus fell asleep, Achilles gently moved Alex to his cradle next to the bed so he wouldn’t become ill once more. Gods, he hated this place. 

  
As he began to drift off that same thought floated up, " _They don't belong here, they should be home. Where it's warm_." Warmer than this damp place. Home with father.    
Patroclus would grow cross with him for even suggesting such a thing. Citing his pigheaded stubbornness and uncooperative nature working with others. His lover wasn't wrong, but Achilles would try for him. Anything to keep them safe.

  
"Go home, my love," he whispered brushing his cheek, "please."

* * *

 

Battles were often cut short or nonexistent due to both the weather and illnesses going aroun d, the Gods were showing neither side favour. Perhaps even they were growing bored of this game between men. No matter it gave him all the more time to spend with his family.

  
Entering their tent he found Patroclus nursing Alex, his cheeks rosy and full again. Drowsily Patroclus sat up slightly from his stack of pillows, "Love," he called softly to avoid waking their babe," you're back, early." Quickly he moved to pull part of his tunic in the proper position careful as not to wake their baby. Achilles wanted to snicker, he had seen it all before.  
No matter how much he pulled it up modestly, he looked so seductive still. Hair ruffled from his nap, skin flushed from the brazier roaring in their tent.

  
“The rain is coming down too hard, it is too hard to see if you strike friend or foe,” he explained, undoing his mud and blood splattered armor. Gods, even his tunic wasn’t spared. His lover hummed and moved their little one who had woken up to his other nipple. Patroclus looked like -no, he was home. His shelter in the eye of a storm.  
Achilles wanted to take him into his arms to bask in his warmth, but was absolutely filthy at the moment. Patroclus sat up further cradling Alex. One of his straps fell even lower, Gods above he was lovely.

  
"You're staring again," he chided, before muttering sweet things to their baby, cradling him further against him.

  
Achilles leaned over to kiss him, careful of their child.

  
"I can't help it. You're gorgeous."

  
Patroclus leveled him with an even glare, before flicking his forehead.

  
“Ow,” he whined rubbing at the spot, “ what was that for?”

  
Patroclus smirked at him, soothing their baby against his shoulder, “You know.”

  
Tease.

  
Achilles pouted at him a little more, he was being cruel. All he wanted was to hold his son a little while, then perhaps get very intimate with his lover later…

 

Clean and warm, he cuddled their precious little one. Patroclus was working on something at the table. He knew it wasn’t the daily reports as they had done those together but a few days ago.

  
“Achilles?”, his lover called. Alex peered up at him, fingers reaching out for his damp hair.

  
“Mischievous babe,” he cooed, gently removing them. Patroclus wanted him out the habit, it wasn’t polite. He was a prince, he didn’t have to be polite.

  
“Yes, love,” he answered almost in an afterthought. Alex was very persistent with hair especially his. Patroclus didn’t respond for a moment, simply twirling the stylus around his fingers.

  
“What do you think of erecting more permanent shelter around the camp. Because surely we won’t last the winter without more becoming ill,” he said looking up from the scroll at last.

  
Achilles pondered it a moment, “We should, but the war shouldn’t last long enough for it to come to that.” And where would the men find the time to build them.

  
Patroclus stopped twirling it, “You still believe the war will be short, because I can promise you. The Gods have not yet gained their fill of toying with us. It will continue for more than the mere months than what others promise. You know that.”

  
Of course he knew that. Alex had grown in the time here since his birth into a sweet ten month old who gave the softest smiles. This had never been what he wanted, for his son to grow up in a war camp. Gods, he didn’t want it for either of them.

  
“Then months its shall take, in the meantime. If the fighting seems to drag on, I’m returning you home to father,” from Patroclus’ face it seemed as if he wanted to argue, so he amended it slightly.  
“I’m not going to force you on this, I’m giving you a choice. You decide for yourself, but be warned your choice concerns our child as well. So choose wisely,” he finished. Alex yawned against him, Patroclus’ face was blank but his eyes were expressive as always.

  
“It isn’t fair to use him like against me. You know what I will choose for him, how I will do anything for him.”

  
“Then make the best choice for him.”

“Achilles, you are being unnecessarily cruel.”

  
“Am I? You and I are both as stubborn can be, we could do all night, all day, all week. But ultimately, we have to make the best decision for our child.”

  
“You think I haven’t thought of this near daily. How from the moment I held him that I’m destined to lose him. Achilles, he will be in this war whether you or I want it. As much I hate the thought that I will lose you both, but…” his dark eyes were beginning to dampen with tears. He had been too harsh on him. Achilles came over to his side.

  
“I’m-” Patroclus stopped him for saying anything further by pressing a hand to his forearm.

  
“You’re right, I should leave but I can’t Achilles. I can’t I leave you while I’m home with our son. The son I will have to send to war. He is…” No, he had sworn that Alexander would have a choice.

  
“I can’t please don’t make me.”

  
“I won’t, I promise it, but- promise me that if things become bad sail home. Please for me.”

  
Those words only made him sob harder, “So when you’re dead. Gods, Achilles how…”

  
“No, no hush. I only mean if the war drags on past a year. A year is what…” Achilles stopped, he was only reminding him of the prophecy. Of their limited time.

  
“Just promise me, you’ll be happy with him, hm?”

  
Patroclus could only take Alex from him and nod. Cradling him as if it would protect him from all that would seek to harm him. Their little prince reached tiny hand upwards for his teary face, Patroclus had to refrain from bursting into tears once more.

  
Gods above, Achilles was so naive. The Gods cared nothing for him or his glory only their entertainment, that’s all they were to them.

* * *

 

Patroclus found ways once again to occupy his time now that Achilles and their soldiers were gone. Camp was so eerie and even on the days when it was fair the winds were too miserable. So on these days he worked indoors with Phoinix on plans. Battle strategies that he would show Achilles later or how to stretch their winter supplies until the supply ships came in the spring or merchants passed through.

He had yet to convince Achilles that building more permanent shelter needed to be done now not later, as he said “ _Where will they find the time, my love? I’m for it, but when_.”  
Patroclus sighed pressing his hands against his head, feeling a headache coming on. All of this was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even lunch yet.

  
“Papa, toy,” Alex called, blanket was abandoned to reach for his cloak. Oh, right he had straightened up their tent a bit, putting things away.

  
“ Yes, my love,” he said picking him up,” which one shall I get for you.”

  
“Luv you,” Alex said reaching for him, his big green eyes innocent. Patroclus felt tears come to his eyes.

  
“I love you too Alex. I will always love you,” he promised, kissing his forehead.

  
“Now what would you like to play with ?” A thoughtful look crossed his face.

  
“Ring?,” he asked. Patroclus chuckled going to retrieve it from the trunk, of course it was his favorite since infancy. Alex waited patiently for it to be placed in his hands and instantly it was in his mouth. Nibbling and chewing on it  for all it was worth. Gods, he was too precious, absolutely precious. Which is why he couldn’t stop himself from poking one of his chubby cheeks. Alex huffed at him from around his toy, but didn’t protest further than that.

Perhaps he should make him more toys, a wooden set of ships would be lovely for his first birthday. Speaking of birthdays what should he make for Achilles?

* * *

 

Gods above this place was so damn miserable. If everything wasn't damp and wet. Mud caked on everything, clinging to his legs, making his husband vexed with him for bringing it in. It had poured most of the day before and he was reluctant to go out again today. Hating to leave his family. Leave this warmth, and pull away from Patroclus asleep in his arms. Achilles kissed his forehead, when he found dark eyes sleepily gazing up at him.

  
“Mmh, go back to sleep, Achilles,” was his grumpy response. Arms coming around to neck to pull him back down.

  
“ You know I have to go,” he whispered, quickly pecking his lips.

  
“No,” in that short answer, petulant. Spoiled.

  
“I don’t want you to go,” Patroclus leaned up slightly, Achilles gently nudged him back down.

  
“And it’s cold, come back to bed. I’ll warm you up,” he teased, drawing him back down causing their noses to be squished together, Patroclus could hardly contain his laughter. Achilles smiled down at him fondly, before recapturing his lips. Breaking slightly, Achilles caught the mischief dancing in his beloved eyes. Patroclus shifted so that his legs encased him.

An invitation.

  
The tent flapped open slightly, bringing a chill and they both paused.

  
Automedon took in the scene. White sheets and fur tangled around them both. Achilles hovering over Patroclus who clutched part of the sheets to his chest. Okay then-. He wasn’t even going to comment, instead picked Prince Alexander up from his cradle. The babe cracked his eyes open briefly to yawn against him, before snuggling back into his blankets.

  
Shameless, both of them.

  
Automedon left in a huff. Patroclus still felt the rush of blood to his face. He sighed and Achilles laughed a little before nipping at his neck once more.

* * *

  
On nights when the weather was milder, they would gather around the fire. Swapping stories while warm ale and stew were passed out. Nights like these, he was thankful. Thankful that Achilles was safe, and Alex was healthy. All he could ask for really. He kissed his babe’ soft curls. How he loved his little one.

  
“Cousin,” he heard Ajax's loud proclamation and already he knew Achilles had been dragged away. Ah his poor husband. Oh if he was here then so was Tecemessa, Alex could play with Eurskayes. They were so sweet with each other behaving as brothers not cousins. Yes, he loved nights like these.

* * *

 

Patroclus was speaking in quiet tones to Alex, when he returned. His green eyes catching the light of the flames, dimples peaking through his cheeks as he grinned. His babe was so pretty, taking after his lovely husband. “...And that is how mankind received the gift of fire…,” he finished, gesturing towards it, “ Which you must not play with my love.” Alex’s chubby hand reached for it, thankfully his lover caught it first.

  
“Fire.”

  
“No, no my love. It’s hot, be careful.” he said kissing his cheek in apology for grabbing him so roughly. Alex made a grabbing movement for him.

 

Achilles took him into his arms, “Hot,” Alex repeated. He was learning something new everyday. Clever just like Patroclus.

  
“What story were you telling him to make him reach for the fire like so?,” he asked, even if he had an idea.

  
“Prometheus’. The story was to caution him against reaching into fire.” Alexander pulled at his cloak, wishing to be put down. Achilles wasn't letting down for him to wander too close to the flames.  
“Instead I think it only made him reach for it more," Patroclus said blowing out a breath.

  
He hummed at his answer, at times it was only right to reach for and take what one wanted. Prometheus' gift lead to mankind flourishing so it was only expected that the Gods wanted to keep things all to themselves. But still his little one wasn’t to be around fire until he understood it.

  
“Alexander,” he called softly and Alex blinked up at him cheeks rosy from the cold. Achilles bundled his cloak around them more securely, Alex didn’t need to get sick again.

  
“Ach,” he responded. He couldn’t stop the grin that came to his face, Alex was so incredibly precious. He called Patroclus, “papa” because he thought that was his name. Well that was as close as he could say it anyway, their sweet little one.

  
“ _Father will protect you always_ ,” Achilles thought kissing his forehead once more, “ _I love you more than you can ever know.”_

* * *

 

At times Briesis found it hard to reconcile that the man who murdered her family could be so gentle and attentive towards his own. Alex’s soft giggles rose as his father pressed kisses to his face. Patroclus watched them attentively a moment a soft smile gracing his face before Automedon drew him back into conversation.The softness of the flames caught his features making his face seemed a tad rounder. She hoped it wasn’t what the rumors suggested.

  
Whispers and bets had began flying once more on account of Achilles again withdrawing Patroclus from the field. He had taken more and more of Achilles’ duties around the camp, supervising supplies, training the troops, looking after the little prince, and occasionally going to the main camp’s healing tent. Just as he had done before his pregnancy had become more pronounced.  
But if such rumors were true, Patroclus would have already said that he was with child once more. So it was merely Achilles’ protective nature or so she hopes. Patroclus had been near death twice trying to birth his children, a third would kill him. All because Achilles couldn’t control where he stuck his cock.

No matter what Patroclus said, Achilles was many things but a man wasn’t one of them. He was a monster, and would always be one in her sight. One could only hope that his son would not be the same.

* * *

 

Achilles felt a headache probably the size of Greece building. The rain was pissing him off and the Trojans just seemed eager to meet their ends at his blade.  
More than anything, he longed to be back, head cradled by Patroclus’ warm thighs. They would relieve him of his headache instantly.

  
“Your highness, we’ve lost formation on the left rank,” one of his soldiers reported. Achilles could feel his headache grow even more between his eyes. His left wing had moved to protect Diomedes’ troops who protected Agamemnon’s.

  
“ _Those fucking idiots_.” This had Agamemnon’s cowardly hands all over this, there was absolutely no reason for them to break formation unless...

  
Fucking Hades.

  
The Trojans were finally getting sneakier, attacking the weaker points in defense. Achilles cursed a lot more, before taking a handful of his own wing to go and try to stem the damage. If they lost this ground today, it could be months before they regained it.

Rain dripped down his helmet as he tried to wipe away the blood caked on his face. Patroclus would fret endlessly if he came home like this. Cuts oozing down his forehead and cheeks. Even if he couldn’t be injured for long, Patroclus would still fuss over him insisting he needed salve and bandages. Sighing, he rejoined the fray.

Achilles frowned as bodies were piled into carts for burnings. The ground had been lost and he had lost forty good men. Men that had families that depended on them. His Myrmidons and Diomedes’ troops while well trained were not equipped for this like he was. Long days spent in the rain and cold. Such things wore on the spirit after a while. Even Achilles was growing weary of this day in and day out battling. Nothing was being lost or gained, but lives and dirt. A few more inches in the dirt closer to Troy that is what his men were fighting and dying for. Dirt. An advance to Troy’s wall. A city that Agamemnon wanted to burn, pillage, and rape to the ground.

  
A city he would claim conquered by him single handedly while in truth did nothing but wait comfortably in the middle with his cowardly men. Gods, sometimes that man made him want to rip out his throat with his teeth.

* * *

 

Achilles had said little before collapsing into his lap, his face pressed firmly at his thighs. Patroclus understood that there would be some days when he just didn’t feel like speaking of all the horrible things he had done or seen. He only continued humming and undoing the knots in his still damp hair.

  
Alexander had been put down for the night, snoring softly in his cradle. Patroclus would do everything in his power to try to pull Achilles back together. Easing both this troubled mind and spirit.  
“He is killing us, for what?” Achilles said suddenly from his thighs, “for dirt, Dirt. My men died so he could gain a few more inches of near Troy. Coward.”

  
That’s when Patroclus felt the hot splashes against his thighs.

  
“Dirt, gold, and treasure is what he wishes to trade lives for.”

“I hate this, I hate what I have become.” Patroclus stopped combing to gently cradled his hands around his head. Trying to shield him from his thoughts and all that he had seen.

  
“It wasn’t your fault,” he tried. Achilles shook his head to look up at him. Eyes rimmed in red and unshed tears.

  
“I gave the order, I told them to protect the left wing. They died because of me. I was too reckless. Arrogant. I thought I could show them that... I’m worthy...That I'm not some mad dog that they have set upon Troy,” Achilles stopped as tears renewed, “ I failed.”

  
A cocktail of emotions rose up in him. How dare they use him like this and let him take all the blame. Cupping his cheeks he looked deeply into his eyes, wanting him to feel every bit of his love and affection.

  
“You’re no mad dog. You are my Achilles. Father of my child. The kindest, bravest and most selfless person I know,” Patroclus paused,” You are Aristos Achaion, the best of the Greeks. **A _nd fuck those that say otherwise_**.” Achilles was smiling by the end.

  
“Swearing doesn’t suit you,” he muttered, eyes still red but he was smiling. Patroclus smiled back.

  
“I swear when I need to make a point and that point is that they don’t matter. Nothing they say matters, don’t believe anything they say because they are lying. You aren’t any of those things.” Patroclus said, drawing him back into his arms. Achilles sighed against him.

  
The truth was the others were right to call him the “Mad Dog or the Scourge of Troy,” he tore apart men like nothing thriving in chaos. He cared only for Patroclus and their son everyone else meant nothing to him. Brave, he was brave because he wanted glory. Selfish because he wanted both glory and godhood. Even then that wasn’t enough, he wanted Patroclus crowned in a circlet of stars, sitting beside him on Mt. Olympus. He was wholly unworthy of Patroclus’ love and devotion, but was too selfish to let him go. To let him see him as the monster, he truly was.

* * *

 

She had just finished distributing the rest of the stew, when Patroclus called her back to the fire.

  
“Briseis, Achilles is about to play a new song,” he told her, Achilles’ fingers already strumming over his lyre.

  
“Oh and I suppose it is about you, another ode to your beauty,” she joked, walking over to the fire. Patroclus flushed and Achilles only laughed.

  
“Perhaps.”

  
“Achilles,” he scolded The Gods know Achilles had written hundreds if not thousands about him. Not counting the filthy ones he penned about all the ways he could use his tongue. Ass. Thankfully he played those in private.

  
He grinned an impish thing, “What? All deserve to know how your eyes shine just perfectly in the daylight how they appear almost to be…”

  
“You can stop now, please I beg you. You’re embarrassing me.”

  
Poor Patroclus his face was absolutely red, if he got any redder the Gods only knew what would happen.

  
“I’ll stop, but there is nothing to be ashamed of as you’re perfect in my sight.” The look he gave Patroclus was filled with promises.

  
The Myrmidons hooted around them.

  
“ _...Your highness, how scandalous..._ ”

  
“ _He just had a child but a few months ago… don’t go putting another one on him_.”

  
Others argued that the little prince needed a sibling. Achilles hushed them.

  
“Do you want me to play it or not?” They hushed up like children.

  
Patroclus was still flushed but his smile was so bright, she could see how Achilles could never stop loving him. The moment his lips parted it was not a love song or ode to Patroclus, it was deep and mournful. Pain spilled from every note, ringing with loss. A mourning tune, it seemed that even the great demi-god Achilles mourned. No matter Briseis let the notes resonate with all her pain, all the pain from the loss of her family.

  
Many of the men had tears streaming down their faces. Patroclus too had his head bowed. By the end of the song, Achilles’ eyes were just as rimmed and red as his men.

  
“Those who have fought with us have not been forgotten, they have gained the great honor of resting in Elysium,” he spoke to his circle of men bowing his head a moment blond hair curtaining his face.  
“And tonight we remember those who have fallen. Let us raise a cup in their honor.”

The men agree wholehearted with him, but Breisis remember that those men had fathered children by a few of the women in her tent. Who would care for and comfort their grief.  
When she headed back to her tent she found Patroclus comforting those mothers with Alex asleep in his arms. Their own children in their arms.

This night being one of mourning and grief.

* * *

 

By the next morning Patroclus found himself with a pounding headache, he had over done it with the wine. Achilles seemed fine, trying and failing to feed Alex. It seemed that Alex had inherited their pigheadedness.

  
Patroclus got up to lean against his shoulder, “How are you not hungover?” He felt him shrug before he heard his answer.

  
“A blessing I suppose. This one is hungry and being very stubborn about eating.”

  
“Oh, then I suppose someone won’t get their favorite.”

  
“Papa?,” that had captured his little one’s attention.

  
“You have to try eating your food before I give you any.”

  
“No,” his new favorite word as of late.

  
Patroclus picked up the bowl and spoon, “Try some, I promise you’ll like it.”

  
“No.”

  
“For me?,” he questioned softly. Alex appeared to be thinking it over before looking at his father, who shrugged.

  
“No.” he said at last.

  
Patroclus sighed and held his arms out.

  
“I have him, go and get ready.”

  
“You sure, because I think…”

  
Patroclus only shook his head, Alex settled comfortably against his chest. His loves, so precious.

  
“I have him love, he is very stubborn. The very best part of our natures.” Achilles sighed once last time, rising to put on his armor already hating to leave them.

  
“I love you,” he uttered kissing his lips faintly before kissing his son’s soft golden curls.

  
“And we you. Be careful Achilles, please.”

  
“I always am.” His husband snorted.

  
“Achilles.”

  
“I swear it,” he said tying on his sword.

  
“I mean it, Achilles,” Patroclus scolded, Alex already settled against him.

  
Achilles nodded and pushed out into another gray landscape.

* * *

  
“Owowowo,” was all he could chant while Alex made a chew toy out of him. Unfortunately for him Ajax’s story had been true, and he was no closer to weaning Alex than when he first tried to.

  
“Ow, Alex that hurts. You’re hurting me,” he muttered pulling him away. Immediately his face scrunched up and he was wailing.

  
“No, I’m not giving into you until you behave. That hurts Alex. Please be more gentle.” Alexander continued to cry, and slowly his guilt grew. His discomfort was minor to his child’s hunger. Patroclus steeled himself as he allowed Alexander back against him.

  
_A wetnurse wouldn’t be a terrible idea right. now_

* * *

 

Agamemnon called yet another council, Patroclus attended even if he hated to be away from Alex. Who as of lately hated to see him leave. The topic on the agenda how to soothe the discontent building in the ranks.

  
Patroclus nearly snorted at some of the suggestions which ranged from hanging, beheading, etc. The list only went on to become more and more gruesome and violent. Rest the men wanted, it was so incredibly simple. Gods, they really were children. For Zeus’ sake Alexander was better behaved than this lot.

  
Odysseus was suggesting that they raid some of the southern cities, more gold would instantly raise their spirits. Gold, what good was it if hardly any of it was used. He knew this from experience their tent was filled nearly to the brim with golden treasures and trinkets. All that served as an ode to his lover’s valor, to him all it was blood soaked treasure even the jade bracelet on his wrist had been paid for in and by blood. He would never seek to say such things to Achilles in fear of hurting his feelings but if he brought home another chest like a cat bringing a dead bird to its owner. He didn’t even know how he would respond.

  
Patroclus debated if he should speak, because the only Gods knew how much Agamemnon hated when he got mouthy with him in council. In the end, he didn’t have to say a word, Achilles spoke for him.

  
Achilles waited until the room quieted before speaking, “ I think our efforts instead of more raids should be focused on improving the lives of our soldiers who for the longest time have followed us faithfully through mud and blood. They are owed a few nights of rest. Damn the Trojans if they want to fight then let them come to us and they shall meet their ends.”  
The reaction was instantaneous, the tent erupted into cheers. Patroclus placed a hand at his arm, a show of his approval. The only approval that mattered to him. However Agamemnon was never one to let him make him lose face in front of the army.

  
“The men could have their rest and be back in their homeland if you would do as you’re supposed to. What the Gods have set for you.” Achilles narrowed his eyes, was he truly so bold as to throw the prophecy all but in the open. As what a threat? Pathetic.

  
He had no reason to kill Hector, the man had done him no harm. Patroclus had made him swear not to harm men for his own bloodlust only those who struck at him. He wasn’t going to kill a man simply because Agamemnon commanded him.

  
He wasn’t a dog, and he would show them as much.

  
It was time to settle this, once and for all. Achilles gestured to the room at hand,“I-we are doing all that we are supposed to. But tell me are you doing the task that was entrusted to you in good faith, because it seems as if you seek to dictate things that are **beyond you and you’re understanding.”**

  
For a moment it seemed as if Achilles shone but whatever it was, was gone. The air however felt charged. Dangerous. No one moved nor did anyone breathe. Agamemnon looked spooked. Patroclus felt sick, Achilles had used that voice again. The voice tingled with power that could make anyone bend to his will. The Gods’ will. Gently to calm both himself and his lover reached for his hand squeezing his fingers. It appeared to draw him from whatever had come over him.

  
Tugging him back downwards, he waited for him to calm down.

  
Slowly the room came back to itself, but the scent of fear prevailed the room. Even he had to wait for his heart rate to return to normal. How he hated that voice hated what it reminded him of Achilles’ destiny of the price he would pay for immortality. But more than that, he hated it because he feared Achilles would slowly become more like them. Selfish. Wraithful.  
The council continued, but the energy wasn’t the same and after some time Agamemnon dismissed them.

  
“ **Oh my love what have you done. They may come to fear or even hate you**.” Outwardly he said nothing but held him close on the way back to their camp.

  
Patroclus’ grip on his arm was both reassuring and smothering, he had nothing to fear. He had only done that to put Agamemnon in place. Agammenon and his minions sought to make him into a monster, then a monster he would become.

* * *

  
Mere hours later when they had put Alexander to bed, a messenger came. Raids were to be ceased until further notice.  
Achilles seemed incredibly pleased that he had successfully bent Agamemnon to his will. He was less so. It felt as if everything was coming to a head, that this was only the beginning.

  
“Achilles,” he started then stopped, “Nevermind.” It would be contradictory to his previous oath.

  
Achilles took his hand into his, “Don’t worry my love. You have nothing to fear I only did that to show them that I’m not to be trifled with.” He wanted to believe that but if his dreams were anything to go by.

  
“I have everything to fear, everything to lose. Achilles, I could lose you. I will lose you whether I want it or not. They will make sure of it.” Whether it be Odysseus’ poison or the Gods’ promises.

  
“You speak things of madness. Of Gods and monsters, Patroclus.”

  
“I speak the truth.”

  
You know this, I know this, Achilles. Alex’s fate. Our fate, is unavoidable. I knew this from the moment I boarded that ship.”

  
“You told me, that we could steal moments together, delay Fate.”

  
Achilles intertwined his fingers with his,“Yet, now you say otherwise. Which is it my love?”

  
“I know how this ends. Achilles, it will happen whether I want it to or not.” Patroclus looked away from him, curls bouncing into his face.

  
“ It won't happen unless I let it.” Patroclus gently freed his hands instead crossing them over his chest as if guarding his heart

  
A faint echo of a different time, it felt like eons ago.

  
“ I was naive to think otherwise. I was young and foolish. Now…” Patroclus cast a glance at Alex asleep.

  
“ I fear.” His bright eyes were clouded with such pain.

  
“ I fear so much, Achilles. I dream of such horrible things,” he blinked pushing the tears away for a moment.

  
“What do you dream of?”

  
“Horrible things, I do not wish to speak of. I would wake up screaming if not for you and Alex safely beside me.”

  
“You dreamt of symbols of death, of prophecy?" His lover nodded.

  
“I-I’m unsure of what they mean. I only know that it was a message, a sign.”

  
“I dreamt of things often when I was carrying Alex. My childhood on Opus. My mother's unworded lullabies, our years together, but it is as if they are corrupted. Nightmarish even.”

  
“Perhaps you are with child.” Achilles dreaded if that was the case, another child would kill him. He was too fragile, too mortal. To precious to lose.

  
Again his lover shook his head.

  
“I bled.” Achilles wanted to cry from relief. Patroclus grasped his face so suddenly to pulled him into a kiss. Desperation and despair sealed it. Achilles tasted his grief, his tears, his rage, and a smidgen of hope. His dark eyes were liquid when they parted, a few tears had already escaped. Achilles gently thumbed them away. Gods, he hated to see him cry. It broke his heart every time.

  
“Don't kill Hector. No matter how much Agamemnon, Odysseus, or any other urges you to. I ask you this not only as your lover, but as the bearer of your son. Achilles, please.”  
Achilles would never seek to cause him distress or anguish. However how long could he avoid his fate? Their fate.

  
“I would never break a promise, especially the one I have made to you.” Achilles breathed against his curls. Patroclus said nothing, but he heard his sniffles.

  
“After all what has Hector done to me?”

  
“Nothing.”

  
“Nothing,” Achilles repeated picking up his chin. A small smile finally made it to his face.

  
“Come to bed, you need to rest it’s late,” he proposed. Patroclus sighed but crawled in next to him. They could both sleep in tomorrow.

* * *

  
Patroclus could hardly believe the sight, snow covering every inch of the camp. Stepping out into it, was instantly taken back to their childhood in the mountains. This would be their little one’s first snow.

  
“Alex, come see the snow.” His little one wobbled over to him marveling at the cold and wetness of it. Much like he had when he first saw it.

  
“Pwetty,” Alex said, holding out a hand to catch flakes. Patroclus wrapped his cloak further him around him, it was time to go back inside. Alex could get sick again.

  
“Isn’t it, but its cold.”

  
“Cold?” he asked.

  
“Yes, it's cold. We have to go back in for a while. Okay?”

  
“Okay.” He would take him out to play later when he was sufficiently dressed. For now he would add more wood to the brazier and hope the wind wouldn’t pick up.  
Alex wandered over the bed where Achilles waited to bundle him in furs.

  
“Wasn’t it pretty, my son?” he asked smoothing his curls from his face.

  
Alex smiled, “Pwetty.”

  
“We’ll go to play in it later and we can throw snowballs at Papa. Would you like that?”

  
“Yeah.” Patroclus smiled a little.

  
Setting Alex until he was in the middle of them, “Or instead you could throw them at your father,” he suggested Alex smiled again. Gods, he was so happy, they were all together. Achilles was home, things were so perfect. At least for now. He would be happy with this.

* * *

 

While going through inventory list for the winter supplies, a sudden thought appeared. It had been awhile since he last bled. Rising away from the table, his hands wrapped around his waist, could it be? Patroclus nibbled at his bottom lip. They had been less than careful, he had been less than careful. And with him home more often…

  
Alexander had just started walking and talking in mostly full sentences. Could he go through that again?  It wouldn't be so horrible, Alex would have a sibling and playmate. 

  
"Patroclus," he turned seeing both Achilles and Alex. Both of their cheeks and noses flushed red from the cold. Achilles set Alex down and instantly he came to his side.

  
"Papa, up," he called. Mindlessly his hands slipped from his middle to pick up their child. Cuddling him to his chest, he drew a breath.

  
He could feel the heat of Achilles' eyes on him, but didn't want to see his expression just yet.

  
"Are you-," Achilles didn't even want to ask. Images of the last two times, ran through his mind. Blood, so much blood.

  
Dark eyes met his at last.

  
"I'm not sure." The only way to know for sure is if his moon blood came, otherwise.

  
"Oh." In that one word, Patroclus heard fear. Fear for him.

  
Alex reached at his hair, pulling his attention to the child in his arms not in his belly. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Achilles. Already guessing part of his thoughts, Alex's birth and what followed. Even further back to that day on Mt. Pelion. Now that he knew the truth.

  
Achilles and he both knew of grief. A grief that hung over them both, for the child they would never know. Which was why they were so protective of Alex, fearful of him being hurt.  
Achilles said nothing of what was on his mind. He was secretive like that, but wrapped his arms around him and Alex both.

  
Silently apologizing for what he had done to him. There was nothing to apologize for, it would be if it was to be.

* * *

 

A week later, his bleeding came. Horrible as always, but the pure relief in Achilles' eyes made it hurt less.

  
Yet when looking at the blood staining the cloth, Patroclus wondered why all he felt was a vague disappointment.

* * *

 

Achilles wondering if Patroclus hated him staring while he wiped away the blood from his thighs.  
If he did, he hadn't voice it. Such a gruesome process it was and while he hated that his love was in pain. The sight relieved him because it meant his lover was in no danger of bleeding out in childbirth.  
Alex wiggled in his grasp wanted to get to his mother.

  
“Papa, hold me.”

  
"Hush, Alex, I’m here," he murmured drawing him more in his arms. Alex didn’t want him, he wanted Patroclus.

  
“No, papa.” He was this close to throwing a tantrum if he didn't get him soon.

  
When he was done replacing the cloth, Patroclus held his arms out for Alex. Happily, he went to him. His lover brushed through his curls, kissing his forehead.

  
"Hello, love." he greeted softly, but his tone was strained. Tired.

  
"Papa," Alex called, adoring his attention.

  
"Patroclus, I can take him," he told him reaching for their baby. His lover’s face scrunched up briefly in pain before it smoothed.

  
"No love, he'll start to cry. It’s better if I hold him."

  
“Then at least sit,” Patroclus all but collapsed next to him. Wincing as he did. Briefly Achilles wondered how he had hid this from him when they were children. Month after month of this, his poor love. Achilles held him as close as Alex would allow. Possessive little thing.

 

He laid his head on Achilles’ shoulder, sleep would help. Alex pulled at his curls, but he was too tired to scold him. Achilles gently moved his hand away.

  
“Love, what can I do for you?” he ventured, hating to see him in any form of distress or pain. Anything he needed. Patroclus just sighed against him.

  
“Hold me, just hold me. It hurts,” he breathed. Achilles didn’t even hesitate to draw him against him further. Fingertips gently pressing at his side.

  
It hurt so much, Patroclus didn’t know what was worse the cramps, or the disappointment. Perhaps, it was best. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So alot is going on in this chapter alot to unpack. Plots and secrets run amok. Leave me a comment about what you liked didn't like.  
> Random but if you could cast the Song of Achilles' characters who would you pick?


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